My best friend was a cat.....

In 2005 I returned home to Perth from Sydney having failed in my first corporate role, broke, in debt, and with no job, I moved into my mum's place as I couldn't afford to rent. The saving grace was that her cat had a random litter of kittens that we found in the garden by chance. The runt of the litter kept grabbing my attention and I adopted him a week later and named him Ronin. Eighteen years, nineteen homes, and five countries are now behind us and this week I said goodbye to my best mate after a few weeks of illness. I've been upset, sad, and depressed, all-natural reactions to loss and part of the overall grieving process, that we all feel. But for me, it was more than that. My wife pointed out to me the quickest, she said "he was your best friend", and she was right. That year 2005, was the culmination of 15 years of grind and hard work, trying to get to a corporate role and what I believed was the "Holy Grail" in the industry. I had made it. Things would only get bigger. But that didn't happen, I wasn't ready for the big time and I failed and the lessons learned from that period have stayed with me. My return home marked a period of negativity and required me to rebuild my confidence and reputation. It was also a period where it was just Ronin and me and for the next 18 years that never changed. I fell in love, I got married, I adopted two beautiful cats and two wonderful dogs (both of whom I am happy to say are still here). But what never changed was me and my mate, through all of the ups and downs, he was there, when I had a shitty day he cheered me up, when I had a great day, he cheered me up. We didn't go to conferences, ASIS, or OSAC meetings, and he wasn't one for a brew, but in those times that I brainstormed on my own or got up at 5 am, he was always there, around to listen. I spoke to him like he responded and his silent agreement probably acted as a confirmation for most of my decisions before the ultimate test with my wife. When he was sick earlier in the year I spent two weeks in the spare room with him and he pulled through. When I spent 6 weeks in the same bed after the motorcycle crash he returned the favor and my long uncomfortable nights became a little less unenjoyable. Moving to London in May marked the "Full Circle" point of my career and life. As usual, Ronin was here, the five of us arriving via a long drive to start a new British life, complete with a terrace backyard. Ronin spent his last week in that garden, a world away from where he was born, yet still filled with the same sun and a slight summer breeze. The loss of my friend teaches me that friendship and loyalty come in many shapes and sizes. The fundamental principle remains the same, no matter the species. I'm proud to say that my best friend was a cat, and I will miss him dearly.