I lost two loved ones this week—my brother in law passed away early this week after an extended illness and the family pet died peacefully in our arms a few days later.
This blog isn’t about the loss of either, the sorrow I feel, or the pain I know my sister-in-law Cindy and her boys are feeling. I couldn’t hope to express that well. It’s too soon.
This blog is about connections.
We had CC, the cat, for 14 blessed years. She was a stray that wandered into Cindy’s apartment complex. Because my sister-in-law was the apartment manager, she knew that she had to find a home for the cat or call animal control. She called me one morning.
“Sis. I have this cat you have to take. She is so loving―She has really taken a liking to Jim and won’t leave him alone. I don’t want to call the shelter. Jim would never forgive me.”
My husband and I came and got the cat, I tucked her into my coat to keep her warm, we took her home, and we had many wonderful years and a litter of kittens because of her.
The connection is that, the only reason she came into our lives, is because she took an instant liking to Jim. Jim was Cindy’s husband—the brother-in-law who passed away this week. Jim and CC had made an instant deep connection. My husband I both believe that Jim came to get CC last night. CC had been living with a heart condition for about six months so we were expecting her passing any day, though she appeared healthy up until this morning. We believe she waited for Jim to go first, then decided it was time to join him.
I know that sounds bizarre. But who knows what the true connections are between people and our pets. The only reason we found CC and spent a last few minutes with her before she passed is that our dog Laney was acting very strange. Laney kept trying to get my husband out of bed and even came and jumped in bed with me to try to get my attention. I thought she had to go out. She didn’t. She wouldn’t eat her breakfast. She just kept returning to my husband’s office, and even though we had looked for CC there earlier after hearing a loud meow. We didn’t find CC until the dog kept going back into the office. Our CC was tucked away in a corner, waiting for us. She died a short while later.
So Jim, we’re glad you have CC now to keep you company in heaven, and we’ll try to keep Cindy and her boys feeling loved and appreciated.
But in the mean time: don’t forget how CC likes her ears rubbed; how much she loves to be combed; and how she wants to hide her head when she’s afraid. We sure hope they have tuna in heaven.
–Genilee Swope Parente