My Cat Knew I Was Leaving—Coping with the Guilt of Leaving a Pet Behind

 

The last picture I took of my baby Stefan before my trip. If only he knew how much I'd miss him.

I remember the day I had to travel to Nakuru Town like it was yesterday. The moment I pulled out my suitcase, my cat knew I was leaving. He wasn’t the type to demand attention, but that day, he stayed glued to my side, mirroring my every move. When I sat on the bed to put on my shoes, he jumped up next to me, pressing against my leg like he was trying to stop me from going.

I sighed, stroking his fur. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He purred, but the doubt in his eyes was unmistakable, and if I were being honest, I didn't feel great about leaving him either. When I grabbed my bag and walked to the door, he followed me. He sat by the doorway, staring up at me with those big, questioning eyes. It was like he was asking, “why are you leaving me?”

I hesitated, feeling the pet parent guilt settle in my chest. But I had to go. I opened the door, stepped outside, and with one last look at him, I closed it behind me. And just like that, I was gone.

On the way to Nakuru, I couldn’t stop thinking about my cat.

Was he okay? Was he sitting by the door, waiting for me?

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my cat's photos, even though I knew it wouldn’t help. He had food, water, and a pet sitter looking after him. He was fine. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. Still, the guilt clung to me the entire ride.

When I arrived in Nakuru, I checked into my hotel. It was clean and quiet, but it didn't feel like home. That night I struggled to sleep. Every time I turned over, I expected to feel his small, warm body next to me—but instead, there was just an empty space.

The next day, I met up with my cousin, and we spent hours walking around town. The town was lively—bustling markets, cars honking, the smell of street food in the air. I should have been fully present, enjoying the moment, but my mind kept drifting back to my cat.

At one point, I opened my pet cam app. There he was, sitting by the window, gazing outside—not playing, not sleeping, just waiting. That image stayed with me for the rest of the day.

The journey back home felt endless. As soon as I stepped into my apartment, I expected him to come running, tail held high in excitement. But instead, he sat a few feet away, staring in silence, making me wonder if he was punishing me for leaving.

I dropped my bags and crouched down.

“Hey, baby,” I said softly. I opened my arms. “Come here.” 

He hesitated, then walked over, rubbing against my legs. His purring started off slow, almost unsure, but then it got louder and stronger. I picked him up, pressing my face into his fur. 

“I missed you,” I whispered.

He chirped softly, nuzzling into my neck. And just like that, we were okay again.

For pet parents, leaving our furry companions behind is always bittersweet. No matter how well they’re cared for in our absence, there’s always that nagging worry—are they lonely? Do they have anxiety? Do they wonder if we’re coming back? It’s an unspoken bond, one built on routine, comfort, and trust. And every time we walk out that door, it feels like we’re breaking it, just a little.

But in that moment, with him curled up next to me, purring like I never left, I knew one thing for sure—no matter where I went, coming home to him would always be the best part of any trip.

Author bio: Zaituni Amir is a writer who loves all things travel—exploring new destinations, sharing expert tips, and highlighting places worth visiting. Through her writing, she shares detailed guides and practical advice to help readers travel smarter. If it involves travel, she’s either writing about it or finding an excuse to book another trip.