So apparently, it’s been two years since Clive the cat made his exit to kitty heaven, and Kate is still deep in her feels. And honestly? We get it. She wrote, “I lost the love of my life,” and chile, some of y’all might chuckle, but let’s not play — anybody who’s ever loved a pet knows that’s not exaggeration, that’s truth.
Clive wasn’t just a pet. Clive was a whole personality, a vibe, a hairy little bestie who was with Kate through thick and thin. She used to dress him up in wigs, carry him around in purses like a Beverly Hills auntie, and post him living better than most of us. Clive wasn’t just a cat — he was family.
And let’s just be real — for women in the spotlight (especially women past a certain age, which Hollywood loves to whisper about), showing public love for a pet? You already know some hater’s gonna scream “crazy cat lady” from the comments. But Kate said, “Say what you want — this cat held me down.” And that kind of energy? Is what we’re reclaiming in 2025.
Let’s not act brand new. The world is chaotic. People are exhausting. A pet that don’t gaslight you, lie to you, or ask “wyd” at 2am? That’s a blessing, not a burden.
Now Clive wasn’t just any house cat, baby. He was a 19-year-old legend, practically royalty. He’d been around long before half of these influencer pets with blue checkmarks, and he did it with no gimmicks — just vibes, elegance, and the occasional feather boa.
And the way Kate described their bond? Whew. That was her soulmate in fur. While Hollywood flings come and go, Clive was the one who stayed consistent. That’s loyalty, baby. That’s love.
This moment isn’t just about Kate. It’s for everybody who’s ever cried in bed over their dog, had a panic attack at the vet, or saved photos of their hamster like it was a family reunion album. It’s for the ones who’ve really lost something special — and didn’t care if the world understood it or not.
Because sometimes, the deepest loves aren’t the ones you parade down the aisle. Sometimes, they’re the ones who curl up next to you when you’re sobbing in sweatpants, binge-watching ‘Bridgerton’ on a Tuesday night.
So let’s stop with the side-eyes and snark. Kate Beckinsale is mourning her bestie, and if Clive gave her the kind of love Hollywood can’t write a script for — then let’s respect that. Because honestly? I’d rather someone post about their dead cat with their chest than fake another engagement for likes.
Rest in peace, Clive the icon. You were soft, spicy, and clearly the standard.
Now excuse me while I go hug my dog extra tight.
Stay soft, stay sassy, and let love — even the furry kind — live out loud.
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