Jingles was a cat like no other and his passing brought such sadness to my life. I didn't want to do anything around the house. I just stayed in bed when I wasn't at work. I didn't want to go out, but I didn't want to be in the one place that brought so many memories. I began to hate this new house. The laundry piled up, the dishes sat in the sink, the only thing I really did around the house, was take care of the daily animal chores...feeding, litterboxes, you know the routine. The house seemed so empty without my little guard kitty who followed me everywhere. I didn't even want to go to the farm anymore to ride horses. I even buried him on the farm to at least give me a reason for going. Jingles was the heart of me, and when he died a piece of me died too. My air seemed thicker, my smile seemed shallower and my heart sank lower each day. Would I ever get over this, or did I even want to? It takes something very special to pull you out of a depression, something that no doctor could prescribe and no counselor could diagnose. He had four-legs, long whiskers, tiger stripes along his body, and I named him Jinx. He popped his head out from under a trailer the day after I buried Jingles. For a month he wouldn't come near anyone, but this day was special. He was injured by nature and worn out from the elements. Skinny as can be, his little body cried for love, and maybe a meal. His heart needed love, and mine needed to give love. There is a special bond that two beings go through when they both survive on desperation. Both have the power to give life, but in two opposite ways. Over the last three weeks I befriended this little cat, nursed him back to health and tended to his wounds. In return he nursed me back to health and tended to my wounded heart. I took him to the vets today and was told he has FIV, but I don't care. I have a funny feeling that he was sent to me for a reason. Who am I to discriminate because he's sick? Sick cats need as much love if not more. The vet couldn't hear his heart beat very well over the constant purring that echoed in the room. I missed that sound. It was as if somebody had turned off the radio for three weeks and suddenly turned it on with the volume turned up. There is a rainbow over my heart now, the rain stopped pouring and the clouds aren't so grey. At last there is a new hope, a new beginning, and a new furbaby to love.