|"Quit choking me, Rocky!" says Jolly|
All you pet lovers know the jagged ache that I still experience every time I think of Jolly, and the longing I feel to embrace his silly little black and white self once again.
Enter my artist—translate: kind and sensitive—son, who listened with patient compassion as I choked out my grief the day Jolly died. Then he said, simple and nourishing as a bowl of milk, “You need another baby kitty, Mom.”
I sighed, wiping huge tears from my face. “Do you really think so, son?”
“Of course—baby kitties solve everything.”
Although his philosophy on life may seem a bit simplistic, I did think and pray about his advice. And decided to go with it. Lord knows beating myself up over Jolly’s demise wasn’t helping my broken soul mend.
|Pokey is all white except for a calico head and tail|
and a couple of "dots" on her back
Pokey spent her first night in our bed snuggled between us, purring herself to sleep. I’m not sure my husband was too wild with that arrangement, but I didn’t ask him.
I will always miss Jolly. I believe he’s waiting for me in heaven. And I’m certain he forgives me for my stupid decision. But until I can see and hold him again, Pokey turns a tragic accident into a happy ending.
Have you ever had to put a pet to sleep? How long did it take you to get over it?