Final Thoughts on Life With A Cat

Yes, this is the real Barney, not stock photos. I love these pictures of him.

Well today is the last installment about Barney. Or should I say the last planned one? I doubt he will ever be far from me for those you care about are never more than a thought away. Although they may be gone they live on in our minds and hearts as we reminisce about long ago forgotten days. I do warn you though... this installment might be a tad long. You might want to sit back, take your shoes off and get your favorite beverage. (I just know how I am. lol)

　

In spite of being married multiple times, I have led a pretty solitary life. People pass through our lives on their way to their own destinies. Some stay for a time, others just blip in and then out, and if we are really lucky, we have a few who stay for a very long time.

　

Family usually takes up the slack for those times when people leave us. They support us in our grieving and loss. It isn't easy to lose friends. They move and really mean to stay in touch, but life has a way of taking us down paths we never even knew existed. And then sometimes the time passes so quickly that we can lose those friends to illness and we are left wondering why we never kept in touch.

　

God never saw fit to place children in my life; not my own anyway. As I look back, it's probably just as well. I haven't always been responsible and hard working. All that might have changed. Who knows? But I have come to trust in His judgment and no longer feel left out or resentful.

　

Family on the other hand has always been a sore spot with me. The Waltons we weren't. In my family a day of civility was a special day. Dysfunction functions very well. But all I will say about that is there are some hurts a person can never get over. I realize no one is without their troubles. We only need to look as far as the news for that fact. Elvis, the Kennedys, and the list goes on. No amount of money could save any of them from their heartaches. We all have some. So I'm not going to make this a forum for my issues with family. I mention it to make clear the impact that love can have on an individual... no matter where it comes from.

　

In lieu of children... and family... and many times, friends... I have filled my life with either working or my pets. I would be hard pressed to list all those pets here. But they each have left paw prints on my soul.

　

Education comes at a price. Any economist will tell you that. But there's no teacher like life itself. Experience is not the best lesson; it's the only lesson. In a seeming vacuum at times, I lamented my life with its unexpected circumstances, poor choices and lost opportunities. I cried for years over what I thought was life's unfairness. That was partially because no one had ever told me that life wasn't fair or that it wasn't supposed to be.

　

Childlike, I believed all the foolishness I had been taught at an early age. You know the drill. You can have ANYthing if you work hard enough. Fairy tales do comes true. Oh, and how about this one? Honesty is the best policy.

　

Well, I've worked hard my whole life and believe me, I have rarely gotten anything I desired. Prince Charming hasn't ridden up on his white horse yet either. And although I've led an honest life, dishonesty seems to pay more. My philosophy about honesty is that if a person is honest because they might get caught, then their honesty is corrupt.

　

At this point you may be wondering what all this has to do with Barney. I'm getting to it... I promise. haha

　

A friend tells me that the only thing we can be sure of is never ending change. It's not a great thing to hear when you're looking for stability and security. And yet, there is comfort in the honesty and truth of it all. I never did like sugar coating the truth.

　

I mentioned education earlier. Some are quicker than others. Sometimes the truth is in your hands. Why don't we see it? Maybe it's because it's just too damn painful.

　

Barney had been failing for about a year. I didn't want to see it. What would I do without him? He listened to all my woes. He heard every good thing that happened to me. He knew all my secrets and insecurities. He was the child I never bore, the family I only dreamed of and the friend who never left or hurt me.

　

A year is a long time to see the failing and know the knowing without realizing how important it is to just enjoy the moment. But as I voiced my concerns a friend came to my aid. And so I made a decision to just let Barney be happy in whatever time he had left. Actually, he lived longer than he should have. I'd like to think he only left when he knew I could handle it.

　

This last year has been one of profound change in my life. There has come an acceptance of many things that prior to that I could not or would not believe, much less accept. Ghosts from the past have been laid to rest. Family issues, broken relationships, lost loves, undeniable pain... it has mostly been resolved. And throughout the process Barney listened to all the heartache and got drenched by all the tears.

　

You may think that's silly. But I can tell you that his unconditional love for me no matter my state of mind was a true eye opener for me. For all he did for me, I feel somewhat inferior in what I did for him. I got the friend I was looking for. I had the family I wanted. He saw me through it all.

　

So let me tell you about his old soul.

　

As I told you before, he didn't like being outside at all. But that didn't mean he didn't have his own little adventures inside. We lived in the country for the most part. That brings with it... the rodents. Every year when the weather would start to turn in the Fall, the rodents always seemed to find their way in to keep warm. Over the years I would say Barney probably caught over 400 mice. ( One place I thought we had stepped into a Stephen King novel. They came in in droves. lol )

　

One night I was sitting at the kitchen table just finishing eating. Barney was on the rung of one of the other chairs making all kinds of noise. I bent down and looked to see him playing with one of his catnip mice. He'd pick it up and throw it up a little and then catch it. He did that a lot. It always made me smile to see how he could amuse himself.

All of a sudden his mouse got legs and ran across the floor. "Oh my God, I thought, it's a real mouse." And I got up really fast and ran over just in time to see him corner the mouse. He just sat there watching him and I could see the mouse was visibly shaken (not stirred). Here was this huge entity sitting in front of him with no escape and an even bigger one watching him. I could only imagine what was going through his poor little mind.

　

Not one who likes to witness such things, I wanted to walk away. But a bigger part of me wanted to make sure Barney got him and he wasn't running around getting into the food. The smaller part won and I went in the other room. I know they are just little things, but they gross me out so bad. I decided to do up the dishes.

　

I was just putting the last pan away when Barney came into the kitchen. "Where's the mouse?" I asked him. "Show me." We had this thing where sometimes he would just sit and meow. One time he just wouldn't stop. So I got up off my chair and said that to him. He took a couple of steps and looked back at me over his shoulder. "I'm coming," I said and took a step toward him. He led me to the litter box which sorely needed emptying. I praised him and told him he was a good boy. After a few times of doing that, he had been trained. Whenever he would yowl, I would say that and inevitably he would lead me to the litter box or an empty food dish. He had his way of telling me what he needed.

　

So anyway I asked him to show me the mouse. And he took a few steps and looked back like usual. I followed him into the living room and he jumped up on the recliner. I thought he just wanted to lay down and went hunting for the mouse. But I couldn't find it. I looked high and low but no mouse. But Barney wasn't laying down either. I walked over to the chair and....... ewwwwwwwww. He had put the dead mouse on my chair. I guess it was my reward. hahaha

　

I hated disposing of all the little corpses. But it was better than finding them all over and alive I suppose. He never ate them or even chewed on them. He just brought them as prizes. One time I was telling the landlord about the exodus from the outside. He put things in perspective very quickly. He said, "Just think how you would feel if you didn't have the cat?" I never had a problem with disposal after that.

　

And now I will leave you with my favorite story about Barney. At the end I will tell you the title I gave it. I'd tell you know but I don't want to spoil the surprise.... LOL

　

It was a crisp Fall evening. It had rained early on and then the winds picked up and swirled the leaves all around. I couldn't wait to get home. I hated driving in the rain. Everything is so distorted through the windshield. It was going to be a long night. I could feel it. It rained off and on all night. Finally I got to go home around 4 am.

　

When I pulled into the driveway the headlights flashed over the french doors on the bottom level. I couldn't believe my eyes. The doors were wide open! "Oh, my God," I thought. "Barney must be out." I felt the panic rise to my throat.

　

I had stopped at the store so I went in the back door to put the things in the refrigerator before I started to go looking for Barney. To my utter amazement, he was laying on the recliner where he always was. I must say I was confused. But then he really didn't like the outdoors anyway.

　

I put the stuff in the fridge and headed downstairs to close the doors. A huge pile of leaves were in the middle of the room. They must have been open for quite a while for all those leaves to be there. I cleaned up the mess figuring no harm, no foul. After all, I hadn't needed to get the search party out.

　

I made a sandwich, turned on the TV and sat down to unload the 12-hour shift off my psyche. It felt good to be home. Barney came up to survey the sandwich situation. He was satisfied but not convinced he would want any part of it. He jumped down on the floor and headed for his own dish.

　

I was watching a movie when all of a sudden I heard a strange sound. I had never heard it before and couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. It wasn't very loud, but still audible. And it sounded something like Eeeeeek. But it wasn't a mouse, I knew that.

　

I looked for Barney and he was in the corner where the sound was coming from. Not knowing what I was about to encounter I went to get the broom. The floor was carpeted but not stapled down and he was scratching at the edge of it in the corner. Every time he scratched, I would hear that sound.

　

I shooed him away and lifted the corner of the carpet very carefully. Talk about confused! It was a frog! I never knew frogs made sounds. I picked him up and brought him outside. We lived near a brook so he would find his way back home. I returned to my movie telling Barney he had been nice in not killing the poor thing. He ignored me.

After a few minutes I put the movie on pause to use the rest room. I could go nowhere without Barney following me. Not even there. I watched him let himself into the shower stall behind the curtain and again I heard that familiar sound. I thought, "What the hell?"

　

In there there were two more frogs. Now I was getting worried. Was I going to find one in my bed? I picked them up, congratulated Barney and brought them outside like the first one. I returned to my movie. I figured if one was in my bed he would still be there when I got there.

　

In ten minutes... again with that noise that I had now decided was the poor little things screaming. Again out the door and back to the movie.

　

I could go on and on. I won't. First of all there was no frog in my bed. At least he didn't do that to me. But in the end I had rescued thirteen frogs and released them back to where they belonged. The good things was there was no corpses. Although a couple of them did have two or three puncture marks. It was probably from trying to get away from him as he carried them into the house.

　

Barney the Hunter, I called him after that. And being there were the lucky thirteen of them, I decided to call it The Night of the Living Frog. And in case you're wondering what a frog scream sounds like, click the link below and you can hear one first hand.

　

http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=2c1_1189220784

　

Barney... a name that will live with me forever. The soother, the listener, the hunter, the entertainer. I'm glad I made the trip that day to the rescue house. I'm glad I had the ability to delve deep within to resolve the issues I had with life, liberty and the hot pursuit. I'm glad I had the opportunity to learn from my fur person how wonderful it is to be loved no matter what kind of mood I was in, no matter if I was working or not, no matter how I looked, NO MATTER....

　

However... you would think that ONE of those frogs would have been Prince Charming, dontcha think?

　

I will leave you now with words from Thomas Campbell... "To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die."

Goodbye, Barney. I was blessed.

The Courageous Heart

This is the next to last Barney installment. Today I'd like to talk about determination, perseverance and courage.

　

As humans we think we have the corner on all that. Those animals without reasoning ability, we think, are inferior and void of any kind of human characteristics and capabilities. But I would submit to you that sometimes they are far superior to us on so many levels.

　

I'm sure Barney never expected to have to travel with me to 26 different locations, but he did! And it wasn't without its problems, nor was he mute in voicing his opinion. He was determined to be 'heard.'

　

Now he didn't speak to me per se, but he sure let me know he didn't like moving. After the third move I noticed he would urinate on plastic bags hanging around. It was his way of showing me that he was not pleased. In knowing that, it made me put things away rather quickly too, so in all honesty, he really helped me.

　

But he had an innovative side to his personality too. Around the tenth time moving he came up with something new. When I would bring boxes into the house to begin packing, he would shred them with his nails. My answer to him was to put the boxes in a closet so he wouldn't destroy them. Yes, he was quite a character. After that he would just glare at me when I began another moving adventure.

　

He adapted far better than I ever could. He'd find his corner of tranquility and I would find him sleeping peacefully as I was being crazy over all the mess. In some ways though it helped me to calm down sooner than I normally would. If he was happy, I was happy.

　

Being a sap for a sad story, I would take in strays now and then. Also there was a lady who owned a pet store and she would contact me from time to time to care for very young kitties whose mother had died or had been left by some uncaring person outside her store. I'd bring them home and bottle feed them for her until they were ready for sale at her store.

　

Through it all, Barney was there as the designated babysitter/surrogate parent. I would say to him... "They are just babies!" It seemed he understood. He would cuddle with them and groom them. He was a good Daddy to many orphans we cared for through the years.

　

We even had other species he had to deal with, among them a rabbit, several birds (parakeets), a scad of kittens and one time a severely demented black Labrador retriever. Keisha was her name. OMG she was a terror. I had her all of five days. I went to church one day and came home an hour later. She had gotten into the 50-lb. bag of kitty litter and had torn the bag and scattered the whole thing all over the apartment. She also had single-handedly removed all the curtains from the windows and somehow had gotten into the refrigerator and helped herself to anything she liked. I found Barney on top of the kitchen cupboards where he remained for the duration of her stay with us. Now tell me pets don't have perseverance! He survived all that.

　

As I've mentioned before, he never took to the outdoors. He hated even being by an open window with a breeze. So actually being outside was rather traumatic for him.

　

One night my hubby had decided to go to bingo. I had chores to catch up on so I opted to stay home. The bingo was at the fire station less than a quarter of a mile from our house. It was a hot summer night around 90 still at 8 pm. I had all I could do to finish up the chores. I couldn't wait to sit down and just be.

　

As I was finishing up the dishes I heard the smoke alarm upstairs shriek. "What now?" I thought. I opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. The stairway went up three steps and then turned abruptly left to the longer flight up. I went up the three stairs and was stunned at the sight.

　

The whole upstairs was engulfed in flames. Barney leaped from near the top step and firmly implanted himself on my chest. Poor Bebe was so scared. I turned quickly, closed the door and brought Barney outside and dropped him on the ground. There were other animals inside I had to save too.

　

I know it was foolhardy and dangerous to go back in, but I couldn't bear the thought of them being in there. There were 2 parakeets, the rabbit, Thumper, and two little kittens, Fric and Frac. I got them all out safely, but on the return trips I suffered smoke inhalation.

As my hubby was playing bingo the fire alarm went off. Being right there he heard the announcement come over the air from 911. As the recognition came over him that it was his address, he dropped everything and headed for home. He actually made it before the fire trucks did. He came home to find me on the ground gasping for breath with Barney clinging to me. I don't think I will ever forget the look on Barney's face as he leaped through the air to escape the flames. It was the look of sheer terror.

　

When the fire trucks and ambulance arrived they put me in and rushed me to the hospital. The hubby was left to deal with all the goings on at the time. The hospital treated and released me that night. A friend came to our rescue and we stayed there for about 10 days until the insurance kicked in and paid us a little of what we had lost.

　

The birds being sensitive to smoke died a few days later. The kittens went to the pet store and the rabbit was let out to 'go wild.' Barney seemed lost, poor thing. But the friend had six cats so his life was taking another turn.

　

All females, he soon learned what pecking order meant. He'd hiss and whine, but they kept him in line. He went from king to serf in no time. One I think he fell in love with. She was the only one who didn't spit at him and we would find them curled up together all the time. And then there was the feline version of Keisha the crazy dog. Barney wouldn't give up any ground to her. He took his stand often enough that she finally gave up and gave in. His courage knew no bounds.

I'm sure he had the heart of a panther. His perseverance, determination and courage was only outweighed by his innate ability to keep loving people in spite of all the moves and turmoil. Somewhere in Kitty Heaven he is shining and strong and vital once again. I'm sure of it.

Barney's Presents

Barney and Whitney turned out to be fast friends. The hissing and fighting ended within a couple of weeks of his arrival. I was happy to come home and find them curled up together on the bed. It had been a good decision to get a friend for her.

　

Barney was a pretty laid back cat. He never was in the forefront. He always waited to come find me after Whitney had had her fill of the petting and attention. Then when she was off sleeping somewhere, he would come for his. I guess they had established their pecking order. All was well in my two-cat world.

　

After I had had Barney for about two months, I had a break in in my apartment. I knew who the culprits were, but for lack of evidence, even the police could do very little. The people had decided to terrorize me and I seemed powerless against their assaults on me. Working 12-hour shifts left me very little time to try to monitor my house. I was at their mercy it seemed.

　

After about the fourth break in (where they wouldn't usually steal anything), I began noticing odd behaviours from the two cats. They would fight now and even hissed at me. I really couldn't fathom what was going on, nor would I really figure it all out until a while later.

　

One night I came home to find the furniture rearranged. I was at my wits end. Right then and there I decided I was going to move. That might help with all of this. Another thing I discovered was that there was cat urine in very strange places. The very thought of having to get rid of them because of their bad behaviour just broke my heart. Only months later would I find out that when those people would come to the apartment they would kick the cats around. They were degenerates for sure to pick on helpless animals. No one would have ever known had they kept their mouths shut. But they bragged about it, the lowlifes.

　

I didn't know which cat was doing the urine deposits, but I was almost sure it had to be the male. They are known for their spraying techniques. But he had been neutered so that baffled me. So I decided to find out which one was doing it. I would lock one in the bathroom while I was gone and the other would have free reign. Then I did the same with the other the following day. My heart nearly broke in two when I discovered it was Whitney that was acting out. I took her to the vet but he said there was little I could do. His suggestion was that perhaps another home would be the answer. I died inside.

　

I contacted a local pet organization who had a no-kill policy. They assured me they would find a suitable home for her. I delivered her there and they contacted me about two weeks later telling me she had been placed with an older woman who had no other pets and that she was doing fine. There was no more acting out on her part. Although I missed her dearly, I was happy knowing I had done the best thing for her.

　

In the meantime, I moved and the break ins stopped. And a wonderful new beginning began to blossom. Not having to worry about any pecking order, Barney's personality began to flourish. He was loving and very clingy. No matter where I would go in the house, there he was. He was always happy and curious and my goodness, did he love to play!

　

We lived in the country now, but I was still reluctant to let him be an outdoor cat. I had to have my first kitty put down because he had contacted feline leukemia. It seemed kind of cruel not to let him out, but I thought that if I ever moved again into the city, I couldn't do that there and he would be very unhappy. Now and then he would try to make the escape out the door. But that was remedied by actually putting him out the door a couple of times a year at 'selected' times. In the summer I would take him outside in a rainstorm and put him down on the ground. He would skedaddle back in the house so fast! I would do the same thing when it snowed the first time with the same results. He hated having his feet wet or cold and that prevented any more escape attempts.

　

We settled into our boring little life. I was his world and for the most part he was mine too. On one attempt to go out, he actually made it and I couldn't find him. I had to go to work and I was worried sick. I must have come home 20 times that evening between the taxi calls. Finally around 11 p.m. he was there in front of the door waiting for me. It was the reunion of a lifetime for me. I really didn't think he would make it out there by himself never having been outside. The cars went so fast down our road. I didn't know if he would understand about that.

　

A few days later later we were watching TV and my hand hurt. I looked down to find a flea on me just being the little blood sucker they are. He had brought home company in his little escapade. The next day I went and got the flea dip and all the paraphernalia that you need to rid your house of fleas. This was not going to be fun, I just knew it.

　

I hadn't been around cats since I was a kid except for the first kitty and Whitney. And I had never done a flea dip before either. I checked out his size and for whatever reason decided I would do this thing in the kitchen sink. I think it was because I didn't want to bend over him in the shower stall and I thought also that the stall might spook him more. BIG mistake.

　

I put the lukewarm water in a small basin I had and then added the flea dip. He had no idea what was coming. And as I look back... neither did I!!!!!

　

I picked him up and held him on his back just like I usually did. I walked around the kitchen waiting for just the right moment. I strolled slowly over to the sink and slid him into the water with the dip in it.

　

His eyes got HUGE. And as the recognition slowly came over his face of what was happening, I know now that I was not prepared for the impending battle. He turned over in a flash and tried getting away. His little arms reached for anything and everything to get a hold so he could escape.

　

His body got about three feet long. I remember thinking he looked like a long string of black spaghetti as he stretched to get away. What he anchored himself on was ME. He got his nails stuck in my shirt as he scrambled for safety... well at least dryness.

　

This was the day I remembered that you should always keep the cat's nails trimmed. He sliced and diced me pretty good before it was all over. It wouldn't have been so bad except the package said you had to keep him submerged for about two minutes. He was having none of that, I tell you!

　

In the end, the two minute job lasted about half an hour. I had to practically buy the store out of antibiotic ointment for all the scratches I had. The kitchen was a mess with flea dip water all over the counter, the floor and anything else he may have reached. The cleanup alone took two hours.

　

He vamoosed under the bed where I didn't see him again until the next day. I couldn't give him enough wet food and treats for the next week to try to make up for the trauma he had suffered.

　

But I did learn an invaluable lesson. He only got fleas two other times in his life. And I had come to know what the word 'dip' meant. Each time I would have to do it, I would get out the big garbage can and fill it with the water and dip. The opening was big enough to allow his body to submerge and the can was deep enough that he had nothing else to grip to escape. One botched job will get you smart LOL.

　

He is just very fortunate.... VERY fortunate... that I didn't have to repeat this process this time. You see, when he went off to his final resting place he left me many presents. You guessed it - fleas! In our other place he would lay by the door all the time. And there was a crack at the bottom. I guess some flea stumbled in one day and then invited his buddies over for brunch too. And so now they reside with me and use me as their chewing ground. I only discovered that after they didn't have him to munch on any more.

　

Oh yes... Barney's legacy lives on... until I bomb the place tomorrow!

　

... to be continued...

Barney Da King

Anyone who has ever had a cat know that they rule and they let you live in their house IF you behave.

　

My story today is about the gift of words. I joined a church not long after I got Barney. It was a Pentecostal church. I called it my 'git down' church. Having grown up Catholic, this church was quite a change from all the ritual standing and kneeling. As the choir and congregation sang, I felt for once like I truly belonged.

　

During my time there God saw fit to gift me with melodies to accompany the words of some poems I had written. I have no gift for music whatsoever. I play no instrument, and I can't sing. "Who but God would have that kind of sense of humor to give the gift of melody to a person who can't sing?" I thought.

I practiced my new melodies and words with my only audience... Barney. He made it plain to me that he did NOT like it one whit. His ears would flatten and he would struggle to get away from me as I would sing my heart out.

　

I knew it was wrong and possibly borderline abusive... LOL So one night I asked God to give me the words for a little ditty about Barney. Maybe that would change his mind if the song was about him. By the next afternoon I had come up with a little tune and a few words. OK, time to practice! Where is that cat?

　

I swear, it was like he knew! But I was determined and found him anyway. I rolled him over on his back and sang the little song to him. For a while I had called him B-Boy, but it never stuck. the names interchanged all the time between Barney, Bubba, Pookie and various other little names I would be ashamed to print here for the times when he would miss the litter box or I would find him curled up in the sink when I was in a hurry.

　

So I sang the new tune to him with the same old results... he was NOT impressed. I don't know... sounded pretty good to me, but what do I know?

　

While he was still lucid last weekend, I tortured him one last time with that song, and, of course, Happy Birthday, seeing he was going to miss it this year. But then I suppose there's a BIG party planned up there in Heaven this year for him.

　

So..........

　

See you are ll my friends, all things should be equal (hehe), I discovered something today that I guess I have known forever. My mother used to say that where there's a will there's a way. I mangled that over the years into where there's a will, there's a relative. But today I realized that the problem really is merely a solution in disguise.

　

I spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get an audio file into my blog. some didn't work. And most were too complicated for this silly little person to figure out.

　

Well... this new computer of mine has this dandy feature that makes movies. I thought... I can do that!!! Suuuure I can... hahahaha

　

HOURS of trying and not liking it or getting the music to work... OMG... it's not as simple as they claim... well... I finally figured something out. TADA!!! Here it is. My first (and probably ONLY) YouTube video in memory of my sweet Barney.

　

BUT... you can only watch it if you promise to laugh LOL. If you don't, the you're no friend of mine. It is not necessary to flatten your ears though... Although applause would be nice LOL.

(It's in the sidebar to the right.)

　

... to be continued...

Curling Up

I keep getting sidetracked by the daily news. I wonder if I will ever get to the storytelling part.

　

I had made it the whole day so far without crying. But early afternoon held some news for me. The vet called and said Barney was back and that I could come to take him home.

　

I had been having difficulty with my last images of him laying helpless and unable to move. And then came the shot that helped him transition to the other side. His eyes lay open and his tongue hung out of his mouth. It was all over in less than 30 seconds. The vet and her assistant left me to be alone with him one last time.

　

His little arms reached out straight as if he was trying to keep holding on. His body was full length too. I bent down and kissed him and told him I loved him. I closed his eyes and tucked his tongue into his mouth. I then curled him into that familiar position that cats have when they are all curled up and sleeping peacefully. I put careful detail into tucking his tail all around and under his chin where it would lay when he was fully asleep.

　

I stepped back and was satisfied that he looked at rest now. One last kiss and caress and I was about to crumble, so I turned and picked up my purse and left the room. It was unbearable to think I would never see him run again, or play, or sit watching me as I sat on the toilet. I just wanted to run as far away as I could, as fast as I could. But the old bones don't move so fast any more.

　

So thinking about all that made it very nerve-wracking to believe I could enter that building again without falling apart. And yet I felt this excitement inside. It was all so confusing.

　

I called my friend to see if she could bring me to pick him up. She said she would after work. All afternoon I felt as nervous as a teenager waiting to go out on their first date.

　

The time finally came and I went down the stairs to wait. She was there within minutes much to my happiness. I could feel the angst of the day settling into my lower back. I went into the clinic and up to the desk. The lady remembered me and asked me to wait just a moment. She left her work area and returned with a small bag. We exchanged pleasantries and I thanked her for helping me in Barney's time of need.

　

When I got back into the car I looked at my friend. I said, "Well, let's see how he looks," in the bravest tone I could muster. Inside was an envelope and a little wooden box. The box is cherry finished with brass embellishment. And where it closes is the tiniest of locks with two little keys. I was happy his new home was far away and that this only housed his ashes. I handed the box to my friend so I could open the envelope.

　

Inside was a certificate verifying that these were indeed the cremains of Barney tucked inside a wonderful card. Also inside was another card. It was entitled Rainbow Bridge. I had read that just days ago, but my friend had never seen it so I asked her if I could read it to her. She said yes and about three words in I began crying and didn't stop until it was over and we had talked about Barney some more. By that time, we were both crying. This is what the card said. You can find its accompanying image at http://www.rainbowbridge.com/ .

　

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

It is comforting to know Barney is at peace. Life is loss after all. It's one loss after another. We lose jobs, homes, security of all kinds, people and, yes, our beloved animals too. It's how we handle all those losses that define who we are and what we're made of.

　

Will I miss him? Absolutely. Will I forget him? Absolutely not. It is said that it only takes a minute to like something or someone, an hour to love them, but a lifetime to forget them. You may be gone, Barney, but you will never be forgotten.

　

... to be continued...

The Card

Today was a special day. I wanted to continue the previous post, but I will delay that until tomorrow. I just had to tell you about this morning.

　

I was on my way in the door from grocery shopping trying to maneuver into the stairwell. The mailbox had mail. That's always the high point of my day. I grabbed the mail and headed up the long staircase five steps at a time then sitting and resting. I reached for the mail on one step halfway up. There was something from the veterinarian. I hoped it wasn't an addition to the bill. I had paid everything in full on Monday.

　

I finally made it up all 21 steps and into my apartment. I put away the refrigerator things and hurried for my breathing machine. That's always the end to a flight of stairs.

　

I sat breathing in the medication and reached for the mail once again. The rest was bills or junk, but the one from the vet really piqued my interest. It was a card.

The tree silhouetted in the sunset looked stunning. And as I began to read, I felt the tears fall from my eyes like rain. The note read,

"Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you. I loved you so... 'twas Heaven here with you."

　

I opened the card and inside it talked about how our loved companions never really leave us, that they live on in the happy memories of the times shared together. And it was signed by the vet and the workers at the clinic.

　

Until I read the card (the cover), I really didn't realize that I had been feeling guilty. You know how you can second guess yourself about things. And I guess I had been feeling that maybe if I had done something different Barney would still be with me. My head knows that's not true... but, oh my heart didn't know.

　

Those words struck me in such a profound way... "I loved you so... 'twas Heaven here with you." So concerned was I about my own fragile feelings, I had never considered how Barney might have felt. He did love me so... that's true. Never a day went by that he didn't follow me everywhere. When I would come through the door, whether I was gone a day or an hour, there he was to welcome me. Truly he loved me as much as I did him.

　

I cared for him in all ways. I tended to his needs. I was a good Momma to him. Why wouldn't he love me?

　

So here I sit now, knowing in my soul that I did the best I could and that he appreciated everything I did. No regrets. No more heartache than need be. Now to move on and remember all those good times... and there were many. You might get sick of hearing about them in the coming days. No matter. I am the one who needs to remember... in his honor, to show how loving and giving God is in our times of need, and how He gives us exactly what we need when we need it. Little did I know that on a sunny Spring day I needed a little black fur person to teach me how to truly love.

　

... to be continued...

Celebrating Barney

Yesterday my Barney, Da King, the best black cat ever created, crossed the Rainbow Bridge into Heaven. He would have been 19 years old in another 11 days, but he had used up the last of his nine lives.

　

He was such a love. I got him from a lady who rescued cats on her own. I remember reading the paper that day. The ad said something like, "HELP! I have 35 cats I have rescued who need homes, Come and take a look at them. You will find one who will take your heart away."

　

I had been thinking about getting another cat for a while. My little Whitney had been needing company I thought since I started working 12-hour shifts and she was home alone so long. I figured a companion for her might alleviate her boredom. Besides, all that time alone couldn't be good for her being a social animal. So I decided what the heck? Can't do any harm looking. So I began the 50-mile trip to the lady's house. There were three shelters nearby, but for some reason, her ad really hit me. I guess it was the sheer number of cats she had that impressed me. She did all the rescue on her own with no funding from outside sources, she told me. And if one crept up on my heart, that would free up a place for her to rescue just one more. So off I went.

　

When I got there I found a humble dwelling. The woman lived alone and her passion was animals. How she fulfilled that passion was to rescue those unfortunate little ones that were abandoned or born without homes. She was right... OMG cats everywhere!

　

She led me to different rooms with little litters here and there. These were just born... Those are ready to go, six weeks old... Those will be ready next week... And then there were the miscellaneous assortment of young adult or adult cats. There was any flavor you fancied, long hair, short hair even hairless, all in any color you could imagine. I thought I had died and gone to Kitty Heaven. How would I choose?

　

She led me to the living room and had me sit on the couch. She brought basket after basket of the litters. Oh, they were sooo very small and cute. I picked them up one by one and inspected every one of them. But my heart didn't ring its bell.

　

In the meantime, this one cat (one of the adults) would come around and sit near me. I reached over and petted him. He was just the normal domestic short-haired black cat. For lack of a name, she had been calling him Arsenio. Being a black cat and seeing Arsenio Hall was popular at the time, it seemed fitting. But I could never see myself calling out that name... too many syllables. Would take a week just to say it. After a pet or two he would wander over to the other side of the room and just stare at me.

　

By the time she brought in the third basket, he had taken up residence by my right side and had decided to lay down there. My hand wandered down and petted him again and again. I could feel his purr motor running.

　

I have always found that the way to see if a cat can ever trust you is to pick them up and very slowly roll them over on their back to see if they will lay in your arms like a human baby. He was standing on my lap as she went off to retrieve just one more basket of babies.

　

I reached underneath him and talked softly to him as I rolled him over on his back. I cradled him close to me and scratched under his chin and then his chest and belly. He never tried to get away. He was loving the attention. It was probably a hard commodity to come by with so many little ones needing the attention. His eyes half closed in a very contented way. And that purr motor of his was running at full throttle.

　

When she came back in I asked her who Arsenio was and how it came to be that she had him. He was one of five found at the local fairgrounds. The others in the litter had been adopted out because of their longer hair. But he had been left behind. No one ever seemed to want him. She did tell me he was very loving though, but that mostly he just kept to himself. He was guessed to be about nine months old.

　

My own history began to kick in. I had been adopted as a child. The family who adopted me had wanted a boy but had 'settled' for me because I wasn't that old yet. I can remember the words of that story biting me more than once. So I asked her to tell me more about him as I put him down on the floor.

　

He had all his shots. And he had been neutered only the week before. One of the local veterinarians gave her reduced rates for all these things due to the numbers of animals she brought to him. I thought that was very noble of him. Everyone was willing to do a little bit to help these animals.

　

I glanced down and he was grooming himself. Must be I had gotten him dirty when I was petting him...LOL. She handed me the basket in her hand and I began to check them out. These were the ones that were ready to go. I could take one home today she said. There were four of them. I hadn't gotten to number two when Arsenio was up on the couch again trying to get into my lap.

　

His gold eyes were so clear and bright. He looked so happy. I asked her to take the basket and picked him up and rolled him over on his back. He never moved. He just lifted his head a little as if to say, Come on scratch me.

　

By that time I had been there for over half an hour. With each basket, Arsenio had made his presence known. In essence, I felt that he had picked me. Who was going to take him home if I didn't? I knew this lady would keep him forever, but that wasn't the point. Had he done this before I wondered? Actually, she said, no he hadn't, but he certainly liked me. How can you fight an argument like that? He liked me!

　

And so in an emotional surge I told her I would be happy to take him home with me. She was obviously happy and told me she would go get his paperwork. As she unfolded the shot record everything was filled in except his birth date. She told me she would guess-timate it. I said that would be fine. She looked at the calendar and counted back nine months. It was April 24. That made his birth date July 24, 1990. As she wrote it down I began to cry and told her it was a match made in Heaven. It was meant to be. That was my birthday. Arsenio was meant for me.

　

With all parties involved happy, I left there with Whitney's new companion and felt as though I had just participated in something divine. I placed him on the seat beside me and headed for home.

　

He did NOT like being in the car. His eyes got so huge and he was clearly in a panic. He glued himself to the floor mat on the passenger side and yowled a sound that I had rarely heard before, with his eyes still bugging out. I tried to comfort him, but to no avail.

　

Those eyes reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I kept talking to him. He kept yowling. Arsenio wasn't flowing off my lips too easily either. But what else could I call him?

　

Suddenly I remembered Beth. She had cats. They were so funny the way they carried on. I couldn't wait for the antics at my house to begin. And then I remembered something else. Beth had one cat with feline epilepsy. She had to give him medication when he would go into seizures.

One day I was over at her house and we were having coffee. The epileptic cat, Barney, made a leap for the counter. He loved being way up on top of the cupboards to survey the landscape below. Mid-leap he went into a seizure and hit the floor. Beth ran for the medication and I just sat there not knowing what to do. He lay there, eyes bulging out, shaking violently. She popped the pill in his mouth and massaged his throat for it to go down. It took effect and he stopped shaking and slowly returned to normal.

　

I looked down at Arsenio and those eyes looked the same as Barney's did that day. So I said to him, "I think you're a Barney cat." I began calling him Barney and in the ensuing 50-mile trip, it stuck. It never did calm him down though.

　

I pulled into the parking lot and turned the car off. Not knowing if he would scratch or bite me, I was reluctant to put my hand down there anywhere near him. He was so stressed out. So I just sat there. It was a nice Spring day and the birds were flitting in and out of the bushes close to the car. Out of the corner of his eye he must have seen the wings as they flew close to the car. His ears perked up. I just kept talking to him, trying to coax him off the floor and up onto the seat.

　

In a matter of minutes he was on the seat looking out the window with his mouth opening and closing rapidly as he looked at all the birds. I reached over and petted him and of course, kept talking. After about twenty minutes or so, I decided it was time for him to go into his new home. I was ill-prepared for the battle within.

　

I picked him up and laid him on his back and petted his chin and belly and carried him into the house. He was looking all around as if to ask, "Where in the world am I?" Whitney was on the bed being lazy as usual. I put him down on the floor to let him go investigate his new surroundings. I suddenly got a glimpse into how the phrase "seeing the fur fly" came into being. Whitney came out of the bedroom and just pounced on him with no warning. There were miscellaneous yowls and running and, yes, fur flying. They had the hiss-fest of the millennium. They finally retreated from each other and decided to wait for another chance to get at each other.

　

I wearily sat on the couch and ended up falling asleep after a while. I wasn't used to being awake during the day. I had to go to work later and then they would be on their own to forge their alliance or declare endless enemy status. They would work it out. I was sure of it. I drifted off to sleep amid thoughts of kitty friends and happy cats.

　

I was awakened by the sounds of yowling once again. I sat up to see them glaring at each other over the food bowl. I went over to the counter and opened a can of wet food. I divided it equally and put the two bowls down on the floor - very much apart. For a time, the hissing stopped.

I got ready to go to work. Just before I went out the door, I picked Barney up and held him on his back and gave him some loving. "Welcome home, Barney," I told him. "Don't let her bully you." He purred as if he had been with me forever. Maybe he had been, in another life. Who knew? And off to work I went.

　

At 5 a.m. I came in expecting the whole place to be torn apart. Instead I found them both on the bed albeit in opposite corners. They both half opened their eyes and just closed them again. And then I remembered what my friend had told me long ago...

　

"You're nobody until you've been ignored by a cat." Well, I guess I had arrived.

　

... to be continued....