Today, I carried a pang of sadness in my heart. You see, my old cat Lucy would have turned 18 today.
It even seems a little silly to me to carry on grieving for a common ordinary cat who passed away back in June. But Lucy was no common ordinary cat. At least not to me.
She was one of the few constants in my life in a time that saw geographical and career upheaval in which I relocated to Nashville from Memphis.
She was a quiet presence in my life through those good and bad days. She always ended up in my lap, curled up and either asleep or very near asleep. She usually wound up sleeping on the pillow next to mine, comforting me with her quaint little snore.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day, June 21, when she crossed the rainbow bridge.
I honestly don’t know if our pets will wind up in heaven, but I like to believe that she’ll be there on the other side of the rainbow bridge, waiting for me when it’s my turn to cross over.
In the meantime, I find that the sadness continues to give way to happy memories. I feel blessed for every day of the 17 years she was with me, even those painful last six days.
When she got sick that last time, I kept hoping that she could somehow manage to pull through one more time, but this time, it was not to be.
I know in my heart she tried her very best to stay, but in the end her furry little body finally failed her and she was just too weak to go on.
I have a rambunctious new kitten named Peanut, who is a tortie and full of curiosity and life. She could never take the place of Lucy, but she’s a channel through which my love for Lucy can flow.
So happy 18th birthday in heaven, my little Lucy. I’ll always love you can carry you in my heart forever.