Joe is dead. This weekend, turned out to be tough. On Friday, helped roll out 500 nut rolls for the cathedral to raise funds for ministry. On Saturday, while working on farm chores dumping kitty litter, Susan found Joe, our outdoor kitty, lying in the grass next to the sheds. Poor Mittens, his furry friend who would walk side by side for years in the meadow and come and eat and sleep together in their insulated kitty huts would now be alone.
We have a kitty cemetery and I got to work digging the grave while Susan gently brought Joe up from the sheds to his final resting place. Joe was abandoned by his previous owner and found his way to our farm where he met Mittens. Over time, the two fur balls became best of friends as you would always seem them walk side by side together on the farm. They would groom one another and at a recent pet photo contest I entered today’s photo thinking it would win which it did not. Some dog image won and Joe and Mittens should have won.
I was never a cat person, to be honest. However, Susan grew up with kitties and serves as the local Volunteer for Animals coordinator taking hundreds of requests for kitties, matching them with folks who want to offer their hearts and homes to these abandoned creatures.
All creatures great and small can cure our fears, with their purring, or desire to be scratched under their chin, or cuddled next to your pillow, or combed. I now have one special kitty, Arthur who jumps up on my chest at 6am in the morning and wants his chin to be scratched. And his purr machine turns on. This is how these little critters nudge their way into your heart.
It’s really not the size of the pet, or the type of animal that defines the degree of our loss. It’s the impact that the pet has made on your life, the space you’ve given over to it within your heart. Joe’s death has reminded me that all our pets are a gift and that over time they each make a deep impression on our life. We become less selfish, more generous and more compassionate.
When the pet of your life dies, you just miss them. We loved Joe, and now he’s gone. And getting over that is going to take some time. When you’ve invested time and energy into an animal, been their primary caregiver and the recipient of its affection for any length of time, it doesn’t matter how great or small that pet was, the loss is still profound.
Despite the grief we may feel, I know Joe was worth it. Every second of it. And I know that I will always remember and forever miss this beautiful furry creature who humbled me at 5am in the morning when I would bring him warm water, kibble and his food next to his hut in the middle of winter.
When the death of our pet saddens us, it’s a good time to turn to God. Offering our sadness to God can in itself be a sincere prayer that reaches heaven.
Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine
Friends whose pets have died. With
St. Francis, I pray:
Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures. Every creature is the object of your tenderness,
Father, and you give each being its place in the world. Even the fleeting life
of the least of your beings is the object of your love, and in its brief time
of existence, you enfold it with affection. Our affection for (pet’s name)
reminds us of You. Thank you for the
time that we have had with them. Thank you for making us the steward of their
existence. Thank you for the joy that they have brought us. May all of creation always lead us to peace.
