Acceptance of the Unexpected
My last post was about our dog. This post is about our cat. When we first brought Rocky home, we were nervous about introducing him to the other resident in our house- our kitty. She had lived with us for a decade. We weren’t sure how she’d welcome a new family member or how he would react to her gentle presence.
My last post was about our dog. This post is about our cat. When we first brought Rocky home, we were nervous about introducing him to the other resident in our house- our kitty. She had lived with us for a decade. We weren’t sure how she’d welcome a new family member or how he would react to her gentle presence.
With all precautions for safety in place, we gradually exposed the two to each other. The reaction was unexpected. His was one of indifference. Hers was one of acceptance. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Months and years went by as the two grew to be the best of friends. They shared beds, the water bowl and favorite cuddle places around the house (usually right next to one of the kids). Then the unexpected came, just as the dog was on the mend from his health crisis, the cat’s health began to fail. It was unexpected and abrupt. And, it was heartbreaking.
Last weekend we said goodbye to our littlest fur baby. Ten years just wasn’t enough time for us to have her in our lives. We wanted more, but we did not get more. Now we need to channel her inner grace to accept this unexpected loss just as she accepted the unexpected addition of Rocky to our family.
RIP Abby baby, you were loved and you are missed.
Furry Friends
“Furry friends may leave our homes but they never leave our hearts.”
“Furry friends may leave our homes but they never leave our hearts.”
This verse accompanies this image for a pet condolence card in my line of greeting cards. The image is of our dog who seems to have perpetual droopy eyes. We adopted him from our local shelter when he was 7 years old. We have no history of his life before he became a part of our family. He’s brought us so much joy in the short 1-1/2 years he’s been in our family…. droopy eyes and all. We’ve always known that our time with him will be shorter because of his advanced age. But quantity of time doesn’t equate to quality of love. He’s firmly secured his presence within our hearts, and it’s hard not to think of what a hole there will be when his time comes to cross the doggy rainbow.
This background sets the stage for a heartbreaking Monday morning a few weeks back when my husband, kids and I we were laying on the floor at the vet crying our eyes out. ‘No, not yet’ I pleaded, ‘we haven’t had enough time with him yet.’ We had a decision to make: our dog was very sick. We could try to save him or we could say goodbye now before he suffered anymore. No one could know the tradeoff of time for pain. ‘Who am I to play God?’ I thought.
At that very minute of despair, we received a text from our ‘neighbors’ who were no longer our neighbors but who will always be like family to us. Their fur baby, who had felt like our fur baby, had crossed the doggy rainbow. Dear God, more tears. The words through their pain solidified our decision: “Nothing we didn’t do or wouldn’t have done to keep him with us as long as he wasn’t made to suffer. “
Fast forward 3 weeks. Our dog is home with us. He is healing, he is getting stronger and he is getting back to his old self again. It has been a labor of love, resources, time, energy, fear and hope. We have been given the gift of time to express our love for him. It has highlighted the importance of appreciating each and every day knowing that there is never a promise for tomorrow.
And of course, you know what card I sent our friends. This one. It came full circle.