TGIF
There has been a steady parade in and out of my room since Chester died.
An (already) well fed Blue Russian comes in for a snack showing off his collar and tag to the cats less fortunate.
A white cat with a bobbed tail nervously waits outside for a meal, but if I don’t see him he enters with great trepidation.
A beautiful little coon cat strides past the line, jumps in my lap, and demands food, drink, and petting.
Miss Kitty told them where to come for a meal, but she didn’t invite them to stay.
They assume it will be allowed…
I feed them, but I’m careful not to care for them.
I do not name them, because names given and accepted begin relationships
It’s too risky for me anymore.
Chester was unique…and we had a one of a kind relationship that is impossible to replace and difficult to endure its loss.
I still mourn him and miss him terribly.
I forget he’s gone sometimes and start to set up his dish the way he liked it.
Toys I think he would like are instinctively thrown in my shopping cart only to be removed at the checkout stand.
I make sure he has his own pillow, then remember why the pillow is empty.
I don’t ever want to feel this way again about another pet.
Still, they come.
They come not just needing a meal, but the comfort that comes from a meal prepared by someone who cares for them.
They come asking me to enlarge a broken and shrunken heart, to heal myself, and care for them.
They ask me to live life knowing that death is inevitable.
They demand I survive such by believing that resurrection is too.
Nothing like a Bible with fur…
The little coon cat is on my lap as I write this…her name is “Sam”.
Make your own application…
š Losing our pets/family members is so hard. Last weekend, a couple coyotes got one of our goats. It happened during the night and we heard nothing, but in the morning, we discovered they’d killed her for sport. I was heartbroken because I didn’t prevent what she endured.
Your words are wise, Michael. There are people who are in and out of our lives as well. The bottom line is- love while you can. You may make the difference in somebody’s life, and you may never know the difference you make.
Linnea,
That is heartbreaking…I’m sorry for your loss.
Yes…love while we can.
It matters.
Oh gosh, My heart strings, the pillow, the toys, the dish….. love rituals.
A Bible with fur. LOVE that! I guess I have several. Fur Bibles.
Church of the Rescued Cats…. same at my house.
Death is inevitable, the heart break too.
But we do not grieve as those who have no Hope.
Ooooolala…. welcome Sam. <3
Paige,
Amen and amen…you have a fine crew there. š
Well… I have to comment on this.
Please be careful not to steal away the affections of these visiting cats from their owners. Cats are FICKLE. Not all of them, but a depressingly large percentage of the feline population will go where the food is best. These cats probably already ate breakfast at their own homes and are coming to you for Second Breakfast. It is good that you aren’t naming them or encouraging them to stay but this is something you gotta watch out for. Cats are shameless opportunists.
Xenia,
True.
The blue commie is just a glutton.
Bit of a snot, too.
The others came here very thin and hungry.
People seem to dump cats in this area…
OH gosh, my cats have a few neighborhood “friends” that they “go out on us” with almost daily, but are still loyal to us… the homies… Home sweet home. lol
my daughter, the cat lover, has so many similar stories… people do dump cats and some neighbors adopt feral cats to keep the rodents at bay and they seem to like to shelter under our deck… she will put out food for them if she knows they’re there and a few have “wanted” to be pets or to have a human friend, they’ll come close, they’ll lie down beside her chair until she moves… many stories like yours
what you have related of Chester, how you still think of his needs… you lost a part of yourself when he passed and that is doubly sad as these days you need every part you’ve got, i think š praying for your heart to heal soon
Em,
I’ve lost a lot of pets and more than a few people.
Losing Chester has been the worst loss of all of them.
The pain of loss seems to amplify as I get older…
That’s probably neither righteous or healthy, but it’s true.
Now Miss Kitty is on my lap and she is not well at all.
The creation groans awaiting redemption…
BTW…bless your daughter for me…
Sam was the name of my first cat. He was the only cat that would lick our faces like our dogs would.