It's been almost two years since I had to put my cat of 17 years down. After the first year, I thought maybe I was ready to get a cat again. I couldn't do it. I ended up giving them back. Another year rolled on, and I tried again. Same story. The first one stayed with me for a few months, the second didn't make it past the second week.
Is this normal? I just don't think I can do it. I can't do the things I did for her for these other cats. They're perfectly good, healthy, friendly cats, but it's always off. They're too this, too that, not enough of this... I can't stop comparing how perfect my girl was to other pets and end up getting tired and frustrated and spend my days on the verge of a panic attack until I finally rip the bandaid off and give them back.
I grew up for 17 years believing I was a cat person, that there was no cat that I wouldn't want in my life but, now that she's gone, it's like that part of me went with her. Is it normal to be like this? Are some people's first pets their last?