I was on an assignment in Annecy when the phone call came.

“Your cat has cancer. I am sorry.”

I don’t mean to begin a start with and end, but sometimes that’s how life is. Something needed to end before something begins, and this is the story of the end.

And it began with my cat dying.

December is, by tradition, a joyful period. I’ve never liked it, but there goes. It’s when you put on a happy face, pretend everything is ok.

And December 2023 for me, everything was definitely not ok. It was a month of endings, a month of goodbyes.

And my biggest heart break came from my cat, Angel, who was not well.

The beginning of December, I noticed her limping and in apparent pain when I try to inspect her paws. Soon, a nasty infection developed and the vet prescribed three different antibiotics which none really worked. Then she stopped eating. Then her other paws started to show the same symptoms.

Then, an x-ray showed that she had Metastatic pulmonary carcinomas, a rare form of cancer more commonly called the ‘Lung Digit syndrome’. A lung cancer that develops silently until it eventually spreads to the limbs, causing a lot of pain.

There is no cure.

December 28, after caring for her intensively, I made the decision to euthanise her. She looked straight into my eyes when she died, and I felt the weight of her head fall on my hands as the poison worked to her heart. The time was 14:25.

I chose the life of a travel writer because I can never sit still. I was the child who was immediately up a tree if you took your eyes off me for just two second. I worked three jobs during university because I couldn’t be bored (and I needed money). I was constantly on the go.

With her death, this part of me died with her too.

I’ve lost the flame in my heart. I no longer desired travel, or socialise. I don’t even want to go cycling any more.

There is a German saying that I feel the most appropriate for now… ich habe kein lust mehr, where ‘lust’ can be translated to lust, interest, feeling, desire, drive, motivation, love.

I don’t have it any more.

Thirteen years is a long time to spend with a pet, along with three years of having her constantly by my side. People like me need a constant to keep me on the ground. Angel was my constant. She was the full stop after a long winding sentence. She demanded my love and unconditionally loved me back. In between my travels, she reminded me to cherish life’s quieter moments. She was my purpose and my reason to come home.

I didn’t need anyone else, I didn’t want anyone else. Home was where she was, and I was happy.

Now I’ve lost the only thing I cared about. Ich hab’ kein lust mehr.

I’ve decided to write in this blog again. Not because any new year resolutions, not because I’ve suddenly had an epiphany. I need something to remind me I still had a purpose, because other than running, writing it’s the only other way I know how to cope.

If you wish to read on, I promise I’ll keep the grief to a minimum from now, and focus on the memories. It is after all, a blog about footprints and memories.