My 21 year old kitty, Liza Jane, named after my paternal grandmother, has been sick. After my last Yorkie died, I swore I’d never get another pet, because it hurts too much to lose them, but if we live long enough, we learn never to say, “never.”
Nevertheless, time changes things. And us.
One day, my daughter came home from her job at the veterinary hospital all upset about the unpleasant fate of a beautiful cat that had been in her charge for days. An animal lover, she already had 3 boxers and a cat and felt that she couldn’t take on anymore.
However, she had something else in mind.
“Mother,” she said. “You’ve just GOT to rescue this beautiful cat we have at the hospital! A woman left her with us for a week and then called and told my boss to do whatever she wanted with her because she didn’t want her back!”
“I can’t take a cat, honey,” I told her. “You know your dad doesn’t like cats!”
“But you have to save her life,” daughter said. “My boss is sending her to be euthanized tomorrow. She’s a beautiful cat, about 5 years old. Please, just go see her in the morning.”
“Okay, but I’m not promising anything.”
Well, I'm sure you know the rest of the story. She’s been with us for 16 years. Funny thing, she came right in and decided Mr. H. was her “person.” No matter how much he discouraged it, she wanted to lie on the arm of his recliner watching TV with him.
It didn’t take long, though, for her to figure out that her food was coming from my hand and that I was the one giving her all the affection. She still likes him, but she is definitely MY BABY!
Anyway, she’s ailing and we dread the day when she’s no longer with us. She came to us at a time when all our kids were leaving and sort of made the empty nest seem a little less empty. God is good! He knows just what we need and when we need it, doesn’t He?