You’re never quite ready to say goodbye. Our dear sweet kitties, Mama (she really was the mama) and Peanut (her daughter), who were part of our family for over fourteen years, crossed over today and I am a mess.
When the white-haired vet rolled down the driveway to our house on this wavy-hot day, in a splinter of time between caring for ranch animals down other dirt roads, he cared. When he spoke over and over in a gentle voice to our little loves, telling them they were such good, sweet kitties, (who he’d never met until that very moment) he cared. When he laid his rough, work-worn hand over mine as I sobbed, he cared.
When I managed to open my eyes, he looked right into them and said, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s never easy to say goodbye. And I knew, in his life, he’d lived every word and meant every one. The best hearts are broken.
We fashioned a cedar box for their burial (a “catsket,” our son fittingly called it). We placed their ball of yarn and a bundle of wild roses inside. And on this hot, smokey, wind-oven day, we laid them to rest beyond the pond, under the shade of a twin-topped spruce — a fitting reminder that they’ll always be together.
There’s much more I could say, loves, but the words are jumbled and my sodden heart can’t seem to sort them straight. So I’ll leave this here. A loving tribute to two big little souls who loved us well.
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