Pets bring such joy to a person and you form an indescribable bond with them that when they pass away, it feels like a part of you has been taken away with them.

You grow to care for the tiny things, you play with them, feed them, watch them with fascination because they do the most curious things sometimes, you laugh with them, laugh at them, talk to them, cuddle them, and even cry with them. They are always there beside you no matter what.

Albus, or Albus Dumblepurr -as was his full name- was the first 'cat' pet that I ever had. I always had dogs as pets when growing up and hamsters and rabbits and even ducks, but never had I a cat of my own until my dad's friend gave away his cat. I remember the night I first saw him; he was in his little cat basket and I was getting ready for school and almost bumped into him in the living room as it was still dark. My dad had woken up with me, and told me that the cat was given to us. I literally bursted into tears because of how happy I was to have him. He was about 8 months old and he was mostly white with a black coating on his back and tail and tiny bit on his head - he was so cute and handsome I'm sure he drove all the female kitties in the neighbourhood crazy. There was a black female cat opposite our house, who used to come to our garden every time Albus was there. They would smell each other's muzzles to which I assumed was kissing, so I thought he would father some kittens but unfortunately my baby was neutered. However, they must have had a little romance going on, that's for sure.

On the first day, he hid inside the wardrobe of my brother on top of his shirts and curled up in a ball refusing to come out. It was natural that he would do that, he didn't know us and once we brought him to the living room he again tried to hide and rushed underneath the couch and stayed there. After hours of trying, we finally convinced him with little food so he would slowly step out of his hiding place and meet us. I pulled the small bowl slowly further and further away so he would walk a step or two to get to it, until he was finally out from underneath the couch. That was the last time he did that. Albus began to get familiar with us and finally grew to trust us.

His original name was Messi (like the player) but I never really thought it suited him, so I changed it to Albus and he grew to respond to that name. Every time I called him, he would snap his head towards me or move his ears and meow; even when he was asleep, he would wake up and answer to the call. It melted my heart when he did that.

Other things he did that made my heart melt like honey, were when he used to trick us. Albus used to love to jump on furniture, and especially on beds. My mum (of course it had to be the mother) hated that, so she would refuse Albus to get on the bed because 1) he had long hair and so it fell everywhere and sometimes it was hard to get rid of, and 2) because once Albus grew to love spending time outside fleas found refuge in the thick coating of his fur, so they would obviously jump on the bed and bite us. (Which we did experience, but not from the beds, but from letting him sleep on the sofa.) However, when he tricked us was when he would stare at the chosen furniture he was planning to jump on, and stare at it for a while. We would immediately tell him 'No' which he understood perfectly as whenever we said that word he would stop what he was doing. But he was a clever little cat, so clever that whenever we used to say 'no' he would pretend he didn't want to jump on the furniture and so he would 1) meow as in telling us that 'why can't I jump, it's not fair' and, 2) he would go over to a different place to which he knew we would also say no to. He was so stubborn that he knew he would get his way in the end; anyway, he would try and jump on the second chosen furniture and ignore our 'no's', then when we took him down he would slowly walk towards a bedroom as we thought he would jump on the bed, so we would rush to stop him and as we got closer to him he would turn and run to the first furniture he chose to jump on in the first place. He would jump and sprawl across it and even pretend to be asleep so we wouldn't get him back down. He was such a clever cat and I miss his little tricks so much, you wouldn't believe.

Ham was his favourite snack. Every time we opened the fridge, even if he was fast asleep, he would spring down from his chair and rush to the fridge door and start meowing at us to give him some. We eventually ended up buying him his own packet, as he would finish ours, because we could never say no to him. How could you refuse your cat's pleas, anyway? He was so cute, I felt so bad whenever I denied him something.

The day he passed away, he actually woke me up. I think he wanted to say goodbye, because once I was by his side he had stopped meowing. I am crying right now, as I remember that night. It was the most dreadful and heart wrenching experience I have ever gone through; I loved him so much. I still love him, he was my little baby and he knew I loved him. I remember holding his little head in between my hands and forcing a smile, and telling him it was okay to go. That it was okay, because I knew his suffering would end. His eyes looked at mine, and they were just searching for an end, and I wanted to cradle him in my arms, but whenever I tried moving him, it seemed to hurt him because he would meow in complaint. So I left him on the carpet, and simply put a rolled up towel under his head and sat by him, caressing his gentle paw and whispering to him that everything was going to be okay and that I loved him so much.

I think about him every day. We buried him in our garden, and each morning, I go out and make sure to say good morning to him and place a kiss on his resting place. I still cry when I see his pictures, and remember him. But those memories also bring me joy because I know they happened. He taught me to be more responsible, to love harder, and to enjoy life because you never know when it will be taken away from you. No one knows when one will die, the future is untold.

We gotta live each day as if it was our last.

Rest in peace, Albus. Mummy loves you.