I’m not sure what bees think of cats, or what cats think of bees, but you can’t have read this blog or any of my writings for very long without knowing that I’m one of those cat people. Crazy lady with cats, some might say. I have two grand-dogs I love, but for sheer day-to-day companionship, I prefer the feline variety.
When I look out my office window, I can see the resting places of a number of my dear old furry friends. Some of them were relatively young when they died of various ailments; some of them had gotten on in cat years. There comes a time when they have to go, and while I firmly believe that there is a reason, a soul-based reason, for every death, it still isn’t any easier when that time comes, particularly since our animal companions don’t always let us know it’s their time to go.
|Sparrow in the Sink (c) 2010 by Petie Ogg|
BEEattitude for Day # 128:
Blessed are they who love animals, for we animals shall, each in our own way, love them in return.
One thing Fran is grateful for right now:
The irises that grow above the graves of Waldo and Jazzminka