Lego was my first baby, my ginger gentleman who my husband (then boyfriend) adopted from an RSPCA in 2009. He was two years old when joined our family and only ten when he devastatingly passed away last year.
When we had our human children in 2012 and 2014 he was always gentle, loving and caring toward them. He adored his sisters from the minute they entered our life. Whenever they were hurt he would go to them to check that they were OK. He would nap with them, play with them and just sit by their side wherever they were.
He was a cherished member of our family that we missed from the moment he was gone. My grief was severe but despite this, I also had an awareness that for my two young daughters this was the first time they had lost a pet. And in reality Lego wasn’t just a ‘pet’ to them, he was their furry brother and they were impacted too.
I did my best to support them and talk openly to them about what had happened and that it was good to feel sad about losing him; it meant that they had loved him.
My eldest daughter asked amongst her tears one night not long after Lego had passed away, “What happens if I forget Lego?”
I told her that we wouldn’t.
“How do you know?” she asked me.
“Because we will share stories about him and talk about him all the time,” I said.