It was a summer's day on the 24th of June 2004 when I rescued you. You had been coming to our church every evening at 7:00PM. I learned that you had been coming there for months and every day rain or shine. When the children were playing you would trot out of the woods, play with the children and then go back into the forest. You would come to the door and sit at the stoop looking up at the church door. Waiting. Waiting, and then disappointed you would go back into the forest. When I learned of you, I went to the church. I had a can of tuna, but I didn't need it. I said, "here, kitty, kitty" and you flew into my arms. It was such a short time that we had you. Yesterday, I went to be with you for the last time. You were complaining as that was always your way. You had kidney problems and were on medication. But, the doctor called me with the news yesterday, the 18th day of January in this new year. Your kidneys were failing and none of us could do anymore for you. I brought your favorite blankets from your sweater box, wrapped you in them, and pressed you to me; I sang the kitty-cat song to you that I'd made up just for you. You really liked that, and I held you until you were asleep. And even then, I didn't want to let you go. It seemed that I could just touch you and you'd awaken, complain again and demand to go home. You always loved Christmas and were able to spend your last one with us. Lots of good food, love, toys, and you had such a great time. Dearest Cherub, you will always be with us. Our beautiful black and white cat with the emerald eyes; and the lop-sided black heart on the end of your pink nose. There are no more needles, no more meds, only peace and beauty. We love you. Wait for us. Please also visit Tabitha. |
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