This entry is from a journal I keep on occasion called, “Every Day Moments.” It was begun during a time when I needed to see the good in every day situations to cope with grief.

My beloved pet cat Sammy passed away about six weeks prior to this entry. His sister Deana, mentioned below, passed away on January 2nd of this year. Both had kidney issues. 

They were only in my life for just over four years, but brought me immeasurable joy, and I miss them. Occasionally, I will share more memories as they come to mind.

May 31st, 2013

“The day after Sammy passed, I started visiting the Humane Society once a week after work. I stood there, desolate, and told them I just needed to hold a black cat. It was the best way I knew how to cope and still function. I met many, many beautiful souls there. I’ll tell their stories another day.

Today, after a long day of work cleaning and being cooped up indoors, I came home and let all my remaining animals outside. Right now that total stands at two dogs and one cat, but tomorrow that will change. Two sweet black male cats are coming home to live with me. I know my two new friends won’t be able to replace Sam, but I’m hoping it will help me move forward.

As I sat down on the ledge of flowers we planted near his grave, I sighed. I know it’s silly and probably pointless, but every time I pass his grave I want to to, or do, say “Hi Sam.” For nearly four years, I said that every time I saw him, and I still miss saying it.

Deana followed close behind me, as usual. Whenever we go to that area of the garden, she always ends up sitting on the stone marker. Do I think she knows Sammy’s there? No; but it moves me when I see her perched there. I do think she sleeps under the couch now because that’s where he slept. Knowing things will change tomorrow, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her tonight.

We sat there, she and I, just silently absorbing the golden warmth of the evening sun. I opened my ears to the ambient sounds of the countryside- birds chirping conversations, roosters crowing, crickets singing, and the slight hum of a very distant airplane.

After a moment of repose, Deana stepped off the stone and crossed over to me and flopped on her side in the grass in front of my feet. She seemed content, and I bent over to rub her stomach and paws. Her fur feels more like a rabbit than a cat, and she purred as my fingers swirled.

The simple, straight-forward love of a pet is such a beautiful reminder of the love of God. I like thinking of and comparing things to His love; I feel like I need that constant reminder.

Tonight, I tried to find some kind of analogy to go along with what we were doing. I rejected my first thought as being trite, and I can’t even now recall what it was. My second thought was perhaps this is how God wants us to relate to Him. For us to lay contentedly at His feet and let Him love us.

I got so much joy out of rubbing her fur and seeing her peaceful expression. Maybe that thought is trite too, but I kind of like it. I told her how pretty she was, and how much I loved her.

I like to think that’s the kind of things God wants to tell me, if only I’d stay still long enough to let Him.”

Deana

Sammy