Yesterday was the first morning at home in over
ten years that my cranky calico, Lucy, didn’t keep me company while I read my morning devotionals. It felt odd not to have her perched
on the bar stool beside me, but I’ve known it was coming. You see, Lucy was old
and her body was betraying her. A rescue cat, she, like other mysterious beauties, never revealed her exact age. We think she was fourteen or fifteen.
As she and I made the journey
over the bridge to the Emergency Animal & Specialty Clinic near Maumelle Sunday night, I knew
it might be her last ride. After talking to Dr. Smith, I felt I
was making the right choice to release Lucy from her miserable existence. And I
didn’t doubt the decision as I whispered my goodbyes to the old girl while the kind doctor
administered a mercy drug.
Even yesterday morning as we buried her in our flower bed-feline
cemetery, I felt the same. Lucy is free.
Those who knew Lucy in her prime will
remember a fat cat who ruled the house like an imperial monarch. Dubbed
Queen Lucy by our neighbor, Cissy, she lived up to her title in every way. Queen
Lucy chose me as her lady-in-waiting and ruled with an iron paw. When she
wanted in my lap, she was by-golly-getting-there.
As a one-woman cat, Lucy even snubbed
her kitty-loving master, Terry. The only time she ever sat in his lap was early on while we were still trying to
decide whether to keep her. When he mentioned she didn’t seem to like him much,
I admonished her that she should probably sit in Dad’s lap if she wanted to
stay here. Within the hour, she jumped up on
his lap and sat a while before walking away—never to return.
Okay. Check in that
I’m not sure Lucy ever understood
or forgave us for bringing two kittens into the family to keep Terry company.
We adopted brothers with the thought they’d entertain each other and leave her
alone, which they mostly did. However, they were fascinated by her aloofness and
tried to make friends.
|Lucy, pretending not to notice Timmy|
Toward the end, Max and Timmy finally wore her down so she tolerated being in close proximity for treat time. Sometimes she even
allowed Timmy to curl up near us on the couch. But her message was always same:
Don’t touch me!
I imagine I sometimes remind God
of Lucy as I elbow my way into his presence, seeking what I want, delivered the
way I want it, on my schedule. How many times have I ignored his other children
with greater needs? Clamored for first place? Sought position or recognition? When I think of His long-suffering
and kindness, I am grateful that God loves me even when I’m unlovable.
The wonderful thing about our
Heavenly Father is that He loves us more than we can ever comprehend. There’s
more than enough to go around for all of us.
… I will not forget you. 16 Behold,
I have engraved you on the palms of my hands …
(NOT BAINES) JOHNSON
Birth ???? – September 21, 2014
IMPRINTED ON MY HEART
Copyright © Reflections Dorothy's Ridge 2014. All rights reserved
Labels: Cats, Goodbyes, Pet Farewells