I bought my kitten, Friskie, when I was twelve years old with the handful of nickles, dimes, and pennies in my piggy bank. She was the runt of the litter, unable to get a bite to eat until the others had their fill. When I rode my bike, I always made sure to wear something with a pocket big enough to carry her with just her head poking up. From then until I had my first child at age 22, my Siamese cat and I were never separated. But then, one day, her hind legs gave out. Dad and my brothers carefully wrapped her in a blue blanket and took her to the vet. I waved goodbye to her from the front door (“See you in a little bit, Frisk!”), and she never came home. That was 30 years ago. I’ve never been able to bring myself to get another pet because I can’t take feeling that utter grief again. Thanks for this post (and video), Margaret. It made me laugh and cry at the same time, a good thing. 🙂
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It seems that in the past few months I’ve read post after post from friends on Facebook who have lost a beloved pet. Today another post was made from another friend. In it, she mentioned a place called Rainbow Bridge. I remember my sister mentioning this place to me long ago. At the time I didn’t own a pet. I had no dog or cat. No fish or rabbits or birds. Or, any other creature that people decide to adopt and take care of and make part of their family.
Today I do have a pet. I have a puppy named Duncan. I have found out how quickly these wonderful creatures steal your heart and become a true member of your family.
When I read my friend’s post this morning referring to Rainbow Bridge, I decided to Google it and find out what and where exactly this place was. For…
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Manuscript. Head. Drawer. 