What happens when it’s time for a cat to leap onto new adventures?

The time comes for every clowder when a cat gracefully leaps off to new horizons. Offboarding, saying goodbye to a team member, can be bittersweet, chaotic, and full of surprises. Having been through this from all angles, I’ve learned some lessons worth sharing.

When I was part of the clowder: Ever had that “Oh no, who does that now?” moment after someone leaves? It’s the frantic realisation that their unique skills and institutional knowledge wasn't captured.

As the cat herder: There’s the delicate balance of uninviting someone from meetings without being mean (“They don’t need to be here, right?”) while ensuring no knowledge or insights slip through the cracks. Let’s not even start on access to folders or software—when is the right time to pull the plug?

When I left the clowder: It can feel like drifting into no man’s land. The team surges ahead, but I’m caught in a limbo of wondering, “Am I still needed? Should I still be in this meeting?” The in-between can feel lonely, which is why clarity and a proper send-off matter so much.

So, how do we make offboarding smoother, kinder, and productive for everyone?

I’ll never forget when a ?colleague—let’s call them Steve—was reassigned to a different project. Steve was the glue holding so many things together, always quietly solving problems before they even became visible. When the announcement came panic set in, We were scrambling:

• "Who’s going to handle the report now?”
• “Who is going to run those stakeholder meeting? And what are we going to tell them every month?”
• And my favourite, “urmm… do we even fully know what Steve does?”

It wasn’t that Steve kept secrets, far from it, but the rest of us.. we hadn’t exactly paid close attention, everything was running smoothly, but then faced with the reality of no more Steve, we realised how much of their work was invisible to us.

We had two weeks to figure it out, and it was STRESSFUL. There were awkward last-minute meetings, frantic emails, and a lot of “Why didn’t we think of this sooner?” moments. Steve was a good sport and luckily continued to help long after he left the project, but the truth is, we hadn’t thought much about offboarding beyond the basic admin tasks.

Contrast that with another time, when I was the one leaving the team. It was…lonely. My responsibilities were winding down, and I felt a bit like a ghost—still invited to meetings but not sure how I could keep adding value. I wanted to help, but there wasn’t a clear plan. My inbox was quieter by the day, and I couldn’t help but feel a little irrelevant while the team marched forward.

Looking back, I realised offboarding is more than just “What do we need from them?” It’s about honoring the person’s contributions, giving them closure, and making the transition a two-way street.

Here’s what I wish we’d done (and what I try to do now):

1?. Write Their Legacy: Before they leave, help them create a “legacy document”—a simple guide to what they do, why it matters, and any wisdom they’d like to share. Not just for continuity, but because it shows their work has value.

2?. Create a Handover Journey: Instead of dumping everything in one meeting, make it a process. A series of thoughtful conversations where the departing team member has time to explain, share, and transfer—not just knowledge, but context.

3?. The Farewell Ceremony: It doesn’t have to be an actual ceremony, but take time to celebrate. Even a simple thank-you message from the team makes a difference. I’ve seen “exit cards” or farewell coffee chats turn into genuinely heartwarming moments where everyone feels a little more human.

Offboarding isn’t just about preventing chaos; it’s about sending someone off with support whilst ensuring their wisdom stays behind, and reminding them—and the team—that every paw print matters.

What’s your most memorable offboarding story? Share below—I’d love to hear about the time you were herding cats through this process! ??

#HerdingCats #Offboarding #TeamTransitions #LeanThinking