My life changed forever: my children were growing up without me, but one day everything turned upside down.
When I was thirty-two, I found myself at a crossroads. On the surface, everything seemed perfect: a cozy home on the outskirts of Manchester, a good job in the banking sector, two wonderful children — five-year-old David and three-year-old Eliza — and expecting a third child, a girl. Yet inside, a storm was brewing that I could no longer ignore.
I grew up in a small village near Cornwall, where my parents ran a farm. My childhood was filled with wheat fields, cows, and chickens, the smell of hay, and the sound of milking buckets. I loved being by my parents’ side, helping them, petting calves, and feeding chicks. My father often said, “Kate will be a veterinarian, just you wait.” And I believed it until life took me in a completely different direction.
At 21, I moved to the city and began a career in banking. I forgot all about livestock — it was as if I’d been swept up in the world of numbers, charts, clients, and KPIs too quickly. It all seemed right until I realized I no longer saw my children. I’d get home by eight in the evening, exhausted, with a sore back and an empty soul. David was already asleep, Eliza would cling to me with sleepy arms, begging for just five more minutes… and all I wanted was to collapse and shut out the world.
My second husband was kind and caring. He became a father to my children, though he wasn’t their biological dad. He took care of household chores, cooked, walked the little ones to preschool, did the laundry, and even read them bedtime stories. He did his best, but I could see it was hard for him too. We were both like hamsters on a wheel.
When I asked my boss to let me work part-time, they refused. “You’re indispensable,” they said. But something inside me broke. I knew it was time.
One day, while brushing our dog — a large, shaggy, always-cheerful fellow named Max — I suddenly recalled my childhood. How I dreamed of treating animals, my love for cats, how I seized any chance to take my kids to the zoo. That love for living creatures had never died. It was quietly biding its time. I looked up and thought, “What if…”
I called my husband:
— Sam, how would you feel about opening a pet hotel?
There was silence on his end, then warm laughter:
— I’ve been dreaming about it for ages, just didn’t know how to suggest it to you.
We were building a house and initially, it was supposed to have two garages and a workshop for Sam. Everything changed. We reworked the design: there was now a cozy pet hotel area — with separate enclosures, heating, and a play area.
I dove into the paperwork, consultations, and approvals. It was a long journey, filled with sleepless nights and doubts. But six months later, we welcomed our first guest — a cat named Bonnie, whose owner was off on vacation. It marked the beginning of a new chapter.
I left banking behind without a second thought. Instead of office monotony, I now enjoyed early morning walks with dogs, cats purring, and the sound of children’s laughter outside. My kids were back in my life — in the mornings, we had breakfast together, during the day they helped me care for the animals, and in the evenings, I tucked them into bed, listening to them excitedly recount their adventures.
Sam continued to support me — emotionally, physically, financially. We became a true team. Our home is always tidy, the fridge stocked with fresh food, and my heart is at peace.
Our business is thriving. People can tell when you work with passion. They see how happy their pets are when they come back to us. Some say, “It’s like a resort for animals here!” I smile and thank them for their trust.
Now I truly feel alive again. My family is happy. And I do not regret a single step. Because following your heart is always the right decision, even if it takes courage.
Life is unpredictable. I once thought a banking career was the peak for me. Today, I proudly say: I am the owner of a pet hotel. And a mother who’s back with her children.
