IN THE kitchen there’s an empty space where our cat’s bowls once stood.

In the living room the chair he always occupied is vacant.

I had taken our ginger Tom Pumpkin to the vets repeatedly for a condition we seemed to be managing when he suddenly took a turn for the worse and could barely stand up. I made another appointment, still thinking things would improve. Little did I know it would be his last.

The vet told me that he was extremely unwell with what he suspected was a neurological condition, and the kindest thing would be to put him to sleep.

I waited outside the surgery alongside other people queuing with their pets, while it was done. I’d like to have held him, but couldn’t.

I took Pumpkin home wrapped in his favourite blanket and rang both my daughters to break the news to them.

Since his burial under an apple tree the house hasn’t felt the same. He was with us almost eight years - still young, our previous cats have mostly died in their mid-teens - and was a huge part of the family.

He was a real character and our home seems oddly sterile without him pestering for food, jumping up for attention, sleeping beneath my angle-poise lamp and burrowing under our duvet on cold nights.

Animal bereavement helplines have reported a big increase in calls during the pandemic. The Blue Cross animal charity and Cats Protection, a UK charity dedicated to rescuing and rehoming stray cats, say they are receiving a growing number of calls from people unable to be with their dying pets because of social-distancing rules that mean vets have to euthanise a cat or dog alone.

People are also missing their companions acutely and want someone to talk to about their loss.

Spending so much time at home over the past few months, pets - whether a dog, cats, rabbit or any creature that has become part of your life - have been a great comfort. Their presence has helped in particular with our mental health as we adjust to a life where we can’t meet family members.

They are loyal, loving companions, giving unconditional affection.

Some people - usually those who have never owned a pet - say “Well, it’s only a dog, or only a cat,”, followed by a chirpy “Are you getting another?”

I know they mean well, but, like people, pets are family members with their own special characteristics and, although you can get another, they won’t be the same.

With a dog, you not only lose your companion, but your routine: those daily walks and banter with other dog walkers.

I admit losing a pet does not come close to the long-term impact of losing a human companion or family member, and my heart goes out to those who have been unable to say goodbye to loved ones who have died during the pandemic, or who are allowed to be with them only briefly in their final days. It must be horrendous.

But losing a pet brings with it its own grief, which can be acute. Last month Miranda Hart touched upon the heartache many people experience when they lose pets. She wrote about her dog Peggy’s death saying: “Fellow dog owners will know the excruciating sadness of losing your loyal, loving best friend.”

The comedian and actress said she was taking time out from work commitments due to her loss.

Thankfully I did not have to work on the days following my cat’s unexpected death. I don’t think I would have been much use to anyone.

We have another cat, Amelia, aged 14. She bullied our other cat relentlessly, but is clearly now mourning him. It’s distressing to see her searching for her companion.

Time does heal, but none of our pets are ever forgotten.