When I was in 3rd grade my cat's kidneys began to fail. I had owned that cat since I was born, and I've never had such a close bond with an animal since then. Anyway, my mom was trying to shelter me and didn't explain just how bad things were with him, so I was convinced that we was going to get better after a few days. One day after school, my mom asked if I wanted to go visit him and I declined because I had some homework I needed to do. The next day, after school, I asked my mom if we could go visit him then and she told me that he had died earlier in the day. I was crushed, and I was horribly angry at myself for weeks. Not being able to say goodbye was an awful feeling, and I wish she had just told me.