I was still feeling buzzed from the great morning I had swimming, biking, power walking, doing yoga and listening to music under the blazing Miami sun. I was just about to jump into the shower to get ready to go to my night classes at Miami Dade College when I checked my phone.

I had received a voice message from my mom asking me if I could talk. I sent my mom a voice message saying:

"Hey Mom! I can't talk now, I need to be at school in an hour! But, what's up?"

Ding ding ding! Ding ding ding!

My phone rang, it was my Mom.

Right swipe to answer.

"Hey Mari! I need to talk to you because something horrible has happened! The dogs killed Mario!"

At first, this almost sounded like a joke. I can still remember my mom's frantic voice on the other end of the phone as her voice cracked and turned into a tragic, devastated, desperate mess of words!

"The dogs killed Mario!" Those four words echoed through my brain as I glanced at the mirror at my naked, sweaty body, which suddenly lost all its sun-kissed color.

Big purple circles instantly formed under my eyes.

Was it possible? Why, God? Why did you decide to take my sister's cat away?

"Merlin saw the dogs walking with something in their mouth, and they were carrying Mario."

Merlin, our house keeper, called my mom to inform her that the neighbor's Great Danes had jumped the fence to our yard, and gotten their big jaws on our little furry angel. They left him under a bush right in front of our house.

It was a rainy day in Guatemala the day that Mario was killed, and his lifeless body was left limp and moist with rain water under an azalea bush in our garden. Thankfully, he was left in one piece. My mom buried the little body in our backyard along with our other pets who had passed away. But the hard part wasn't over.

My mom still had to tell my sister, who was out of town, that her cat had been killed. It was my sister's biggest fear that the dogs would attack her cat. Her worst nightmare, which was seemingly possible, had came true.

And now, one day later, we are all here, but without our little Mario.

How can we begin to understand the death of a pet? Pets don't speak to us, we don't know what they are thinking. We take care of them, and feed them, and clean up after them, and worry about them and make sure they are comfortable and happy, but most of all, we love them to death.

What I know for sure is that God granted my sister this little cat when she needed him the most, and God must have had a reason to take him away from her yesterday. (Or is it possible that God was not paying attention yesterday at 4:00 p.m.?)

So many questions bubble up inside of me, and all I can hope is that my sister will have the strength to let go of someone she can no longer pet.

Little Angel, where did you go? Where are you now? Can you hear us? Can you see us all crying over you? Do you know that it hurts to keep my eyes open because they are so dehydrated from all the tears they have cried? Do you know how bitter my stomach feels when I think about your meow?

I hope you are happy in Cat Heaven. I hope you will continue to look over my sister and guide her in your quiet ways like you used to. I hope you will keep an eye on your dog brother and sister, who marked their territory all over the garden the morning after you died.

Little cat, if only you knew what a big impact your brief existence has made in our lives.

I will always remember you, Mario Leche Babette.