April 13th 2009 8:04 am
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Meowma is starting to write again and she has written one for me this time! Isn't that pawsome??? Here tis!
Can You Hear Me?
One night, not long ago, as I sat wide awake and not thinking of anything in particular, I heard, or thought I did, the soft voice of my grandfather in my ear. He was telling me to look at something. I looked and looked, all around the room and then it came to me. He wanted me to see in my mind's eye what he saw. I had never before done this, so it was a new experience with me.
As I took his hand (in my mind's eye), he walked me through the most beautiful countryside I had ever seen. I knew without a doubt where we were. I looked at my grandpa and was amazed at how youthful and strong he was. He then led me across a bridge and I was totally aware of all the animals that were there. I saw Chief, the first dog ever in my life, that was grandpa's baby, he came bounding over to greet me. Next came my old black cat, Blackie, with two good eyes and the most gorgeous black coat I've ever seen. He wound himself around my ankles as he used to do when I was little, till I reached down to pet him. I turned to look at my grandpa with tears in my eyes. He knew how happy I was, not only to see my old friends, but for him too.
We walked and walked, but I don't ever remember being tired. No words crossed our lips. Then it seemed like something changed. Not a bad change, just something a little out of sequence. Something made me turn and look at where we came from. There! Right next to that tall tree! I saw something moving and had to find out what it was. I walked quickly in the direction we had come from, knowing even if I was alone, nothing would hurt me. When I got to where I thought I had seen something moving, I looked around, but saw nothing. Being the curious person I am, I walked along the edge of the woods and then went further in. There among the tall trees and bushes, sat the most forlorn looking little cat I had ever seen. Something made me think it didn't belong here, among all the happy animals, yet. I slowly walked toward it and it threw itself at me, purring madly! I gently picked it up, to see a wafer thin ginger tabby with dirty white paws and bib, shivering with cold and happiness.
As I picked up the little cat, I realized I wasn't with my grandpa any longer or in heaven or Rainbow Bridge, for that matter. I was picking up a half grown ginger tabby who someone had dumped in front of our home and was literally starving to death. Granted, parts of this story are fictitious, but the little cat resides in my home with seven other girls and her name is Puff. She is now very much alive and well and has turned into a gorgeous young lady. If humans could make an effort to save and/or at least feed a starving animal or make sure it had a home, I truly believe we could make a difference. They offer unconditional love and are a wonderful support system.
A short story written by
April 13, 2009
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