Jester, of blessed memory
Kefira, her little clone
Posted on 11/24/2012 3:20:00 PM PST by EinNYC
When Abbey, the beloved 14-year-old dog of the Scrivener family died, one little girl's grief was eased in the most touching of fashions.
Telling her parents that she wanted to write a letter to God, four-year-old Meredith dictated a note to her mother and together they traveled down to their post office in Brook Hollow, Texas to post it.
Two weeks later to their amazement, the family returned home to find a package wrapped in gold on their front porch addressed to 'Mer' and signed 'God, and one of his special angels.'
Inside the mysterious package was a book titled 'When a Pet Dies' by Fred Rogers and note, clearly sent in reply to the little girl's plea to God to 'please take care of my dog'
'Dear Meredith,' read the attached letter.
'Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog.
'Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you.
'I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find, I am wherever there is love.
'Love, God.'
(Excerpt) Read more at dailymail.co.uk ...
Sadly that is not an option here. I live in the middle of nowhere Va.
Five years ago we had to take her “Big Brother” in. He had liver cancer. She was absolutely lost with out him. She kept wandering around the house looking for him. She now has a “little sister” named Cassie, but it is not the same.
I did the same for my 18 year old cat a couple of years ago. The only difference is that afterwards I brought her out to what has become a family pet cemetery on the edge of the yard. I just couldn’t put her through that car ride in her last hours. A traveling vet is a blessing, and so were you as a pet owner.
I forgot to add that the outcome of the election would very probably have been much more satisfactory had we allowed all the dogs in the US to vote after simply giving the candidates the sniff test.
The incumbent would have gotten only the votes of the few rabid ones.
Come to think of it, that’s what the “humans” who elected him were - rabid.
I miss Wink.
The other half have souls too, but they were sold to the devil for a free cell phone.
The other half have souls too, but they were sold to the devil for a free cell phone.
Jester, of blessed memory
Kefira, her little clone
Our vet [the best in the world] comes to our house for all the critters’ vaccinations and such.
Office visits are saved for singular incidents.
When Pookie told me it was time, back in August, he came out and let her go for us.
And then he cried with me.
He’s really the best vet, ever.
You’re probably one of the few people who wouldn’t think I was stark staring mad when I tell the stories of how I got my pets.
[it’s never in “the normal way”]
If you look at posts #25 & #26 you’ll see we have similar thoughts.
Must come prom being sort-of neighbors.
The Gates of Heaven by Don Carrick
The old man was so tired; he closed his eyes and dozed off. He began to dream, a vivid dream... “NO” he thought, this is no dream, and yet, what else could it be? He looked down at his arms, they were the arms of a young man… he was no longer old? He was standing beside a dirt road out in the country, it was a beautiful day, the hills were covered with emerald green grass and knurled oak trees, it was so beautiful here! Then, seemingly, from out of nowhere, his dog was by his side, Shep, but Shep had been the dog of his youth? Then it dawned on him, he must have “crossed over” he must have died in his sleep. If so all his fears of death had been silly, he felt better than he has ever felt in life; this was the most beautiful place, the most beautiful day... Shep dropped a stick at his feet and backed up excitedly, looking down at the stick then up at him, obviously anxious for him to throw it, anxious to play. He knelt down and took Shep’s head between his hands and kissed him on the top of his head, his heart filled with joy, thrilled at what seemed to have occurred, thrilled with this new “reality.” He felt better than he had ever felt during his time on earth...
He threw the stick for SHEP and watched him bound excitedly after it, bringing it back over and over. After a short time he realized SHEP was getting thirsty. Looking around he could not see any creek or stream or other place for Shep to get a drink so he decided they should start walking down the road. They hadn’t gone very far when they came to a great marble arch with a gold gate and a gold road leading over a small hill. He could see and feel a warm glow coming from over the hill, next to the gate was a large pulpit upon which stood a saintly looking man wearing a white robe and having a long flowing white beard, very distinguished looking.
“What is this place?” he asked
“Why don’t you know? You’ve reached the gates of heaven.” replied the man
“May I enter?” he asked
“Hmmm let me look in my book
Why Yes! Your name is written here, you’re welcome to enter.”
“And my dog, he can come in too? He’s very thirsty.”
“Sorry, but NO! Absolutely not! I’m sorry, dogs aren’t allowed in heaven.”
He thought about this for a few seconds
“If my dog isn’t welcome then I guess I really don’t belong here either.”
“Suit yourself, but know this: If you turn your back on this gate you will never get a second chance to enter.”
He turned his back on heaven and continued down the road with Shep by his side. It was odd, all his life he had hoped to enter heaven, now he had turned his back on his only chance to enter, and yet, he felt strangely good about it. In fact, somehow, he could not manage to muster even a slight twinge of regret? In his heart he felt he had done the right “thing.” As he walked down the road the countryside seemed to continue to get more and more beautiful and his sense of well being grew stronger and stronger. He crested another hill and walked down into the most beautiful valley, this was the most beautiful place he had ever been. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere, insects buzzed and gorgeous butterflies the likes of which he had never seen before flitted from flower to flower.
As he walked down the road he came to another gate, just an old rail fence with a man, who, for the most part, looked like a farmer, sitting on it wearing an old straw hat, a stem of grass between his lips. Just off the road on the other side of the gate was a well.
“Hello” he said to the farmer. “May I enter here and get a bucket of water from your well? My dog is awfully thirsty.”
“Of course you may. You and your dog are both welcome here.”
He walked through the gate and proceeded to lower the bucket into the well.
“Where am I?” he asked the farmer
“Son, you’ve reached the gates of heaven.”
“Really? Are you sure? That man back there said that was the gate of heaven?”
“OH Yes, I know who you mean. He tells everyone that, but you know son - ‘The devil is a liar.’ And do you think God would ever let anyone reach the real gates of heaven who was willing to leave his best friend in life alone and thirsty by the side of the road?”
Stop it. I’ve been having dreams about Butch and Ginger. Shoot, now my eyes are leaking, too.
Bijou (the Maine Coon) is angling for the best way to jump into my lap as I type this!
I know I shouldn’t read these things. Everything gets blurry.
About 25 years ago my wife’s brother and his wife found “kitty”. They went back and forth for about 2 months about a name. The cat did answer to kitty and the name stuck. Kitty could have been a twin/triplet for your two. I never saw a Calico with a black mask before or since. Good luck with your little one.
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