This week has required more than its share of warm beverages. The snow on Saturday meant hot chocolate for the children. The death of Charlie on Tuesday meant several cups of hot tea to comfort my sad heart. The lack of sleep last night because our van window was smashed out in an attempted burglary required an extra cup of black tea this morning to get me going for 7 classes of students today.
Something warm also came in the forms of kind words, prayers, stories, and thoughts from friends and family. We have been surrounded with support and with possibilities for kittens, cattins (in between kittens and cats), and cats. Almost everyone, it seems, has been touched and changed through a relationship with an animal. Almost everyone, it seems, knows of some animal that needs a home.
We have never gone out and chosen a pet. Rather, they have always chosen us. Nellie was from Nashville. Bailey and Maggie wandered separately into the yard of the Gin House in Tunica. Charlie pitter-pattered into our garage and captured our hearts here. I'm not sure what we will do. We are waiting and pondering as we should in this advent season.
From the autopsy report, we discovered that Charlie died from a single, adult heart worm that had wrapped itself around a valve in his heart. It had nothing to do with his cold. He would have died at some point unexpectedly and suddenly. Cats rarely get heart worms. They are not routinely tested for them or treated for them as are dogs, and they do not receive preventative medications to keep them away. Charlie was simply unlucky.
But he was also lucky because he was so loved for his short time on earth. And we were lucky because he gave us so much love.
Oh--I'm definitely a cat person, and a dog person, and a butterfly person . . .
Something warm also came in the forms of kind words, prayers, stories, and thoughts from friends and family. We have been surrounded with support and with possibilities for kittens, cattins (in between kittens and cats), and cats. Almost everyone, it seems, has been touched and changed through a relationship with an animal. Almost everyone, it seems, knows of some animal that needs a home.
We have never gone out and chosen a pet. Rather, they have always chosen us. Nellie was from Nashville. Bailey and Maggie wandered separately into the yard of the Gin House in Tunica. Charlie pitter-pattered into our garage and captured our hearts here. I'm not sure what we will do. We are waiting and pondering as we should in this advent season.
From the autopsy report, we discovered that Charlie died from a single, adult heart worm that had wrapped itself around a valve in his heart. It had nothing to do with his cold. He would have died at some point unexpectedly and suddenly. Cats rarely get heart worms. They are not routinely tested for them or treated for them as are dogs, and they do not receive preventative medications to keep them away. Charlie was simply unlucky.
But he was also lucky because he was so loved for his short time on earth. And we were lucky because he gave us so much love.
Oh--I'm definitely a cat person, and a dog person, and a butterfly person . . .
1 comment:
...and a wonderful person! Julie, your words are so tender and hopeful even in the midst of this very difficult week. I wish you copious cups of hot tea and soft furry animals to comfort you!
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