Day of the Dead

Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead, in English) is a Mexican celebration of one's ancestors on November 1 and 2.  It is believed "that the gates of Heaven are opened at midnight on October 31, and the spirits of all deceased children are allowed to reunite with their families for 24 hours.  On November 2, the spirits of the adults come down to enjoy the festivities..."  source

I bought this little figure at Target last month.

I take time during Day of the Dead to remember and celebrate the critters that have been part of our family and have passed on.  Each is precious.

Murphy, the gentle giant who taught me to love dogs.

Cindy.  Still my best Christmas present ever.

Amy.  Barn cat, turned house cat, born deaf ... and she never knew that that was supposed to be a handicap.

Emma.  The precious soul who started my journey into the wonderful world of Greyhounds.

Maggie.  My miracle survivor cat.  The friendliest cat ever.

Daniel.  The dog who picked me.  

Kimba.  The Queen of Hartwood.

... and Winnie.  What can I say about this wonderful little dog ... I adored her.

I gathered these photos of some of my precious critters, and each of them made me smile.  Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.  I remember each of them with love, and joy, and I am grateful for their presence in our family.

On this final day of Dia de los Muertos, take a moment to remember your precious loved ones, whether they're human or otherwise.  Be still, and I'll bet you can feel them nearby.
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If you'd like to read a lovely, short article about Day of the Dead, click HERE.

Words of Comfort

Amy went to Heaven yesterday.  Dr. Stamp was wonderful, crying right along with us.  Amy slipped away, peacefully and relaxed ... finally free.

I am overwhelmed with the outpouring of comfort that my friends have offered. The phone calls and the emails have really helped. My favorite came from Karen. She said, "You are giving Amy a peaceful end. She won't know what you know. Feel the peace you are giving her." This is what I do for my critters. They love me unconditionally, and I sacrifice myself to give them peace.

Let me tell you the story of how Amy got her name.  When we found her in the barn as a tiny kitten, she was too young for us to bring her home.  We had to leave her there, but I was afraid that she would turn feral like her mom.  Every few days for three weeks, I visited the barn where she lived.  I would catch her and sit in my car with her, and pet her and talk to her, and she would scream and cry almost the whole time.  I remembered when our oldest daughter was in preschool, there was a little girl named Amy who cried at school every morning ... what a perfect name for a little kitten who also cried.

There is a beautiful new cat angel in Heaven today.

Hug your fur-kids. 

(Click HERE if you didn't see my post from last week, to learn what a special kitty Amy was.)

Sweet Amy

Amy came to us in the summer of 1996.  She was born a barn cat, in the hayloft at my sister's father-in-law's farm.  She was cute, and fluffy, and the most beautiful cream color, and we brought her home to live with us when she was about 6 weeks old ... before she could get feral and barnified.  From the first time I saw her, snuggled with her sisters in the hay, their eyes barely open, I knew that Amy was different ... and that she was meant to be mine.

We discovered why she's different within a few weeks of bringing her home... Amy is deaf.  She probably has been since she was born.  It's been interesting to have a deaf cat ... she's not afraid of the vaccuum cleaner or other things that make loud noises, she's always been easily startled but she recovers quickly, and her ears are always perked forward in that cute way of hers.  She is incredibly patient, which was a good thing while my daughters were younger ... Amy was often the subject of the girls' photo shoots, which almost always included costumes and props.

Amy is our little opera singer.  One of her favorite things to do is to sit somewhere high and sing arias.  She howls SOOO loud, it echoes throughout the house.  Her favorite places to sing are the top of the stairs and the upstairs bathroom ... which are also the most echo-ey places we have.

One of the benefits of being deaf is that Amy can sleep just about anywhere.  We are known to find her curled up wherever she decides is warm and comfortable.

When our grandson joined the family, Amy loved story time.  She patiently let Drew play with her, like my girls had played with her when they were younger.  I was fortunate to be in the right place with my camera to capture this exchange shown below.

"Say Cheese, Drew."

"Wanna wear the hat, Amy?"

"Are you in there?"

"I love you, Amy."

Amy is my evening time companion, sitting in my lap while we watch TV, purring louder than any cat I have ever heard.  She also purrs MORE than any other cat I know ... often sitting alone, purring happily to herself.

14 years is a ripe old age for a cat, and Amy has recently begin to have health problems.  Her kidneys don't function as well as they should, but the deterioration is stable and she hasn't required treatment.  She has developed serious allergies in the past year, which haven't responded to antihistamines or allergy shots.  Last month, we made the decision to treat her allergies with steroids because her quality of life was getting pretty low.  She responded well to the steriods.  She isn't nearly as itchy now as she had been a few weeks ago, and her fur is even beginning to grow back.

Amy in 2007, for Drew's 3rd birthday.  She has always loved being in the middle of whatever is going on.

Yesterday, I noticed that Amy appeared to have something wrong with her mouth.  Knowing that cats on steroids are more prone to infection, I made an appointment with her vet to check it out.  Dr. Stamp checked her over, looked in her mouth, drew in her breath, and said, "She has a mass under her tongue."  Things like this are almost always cancer in cats ... probably squamous cell, which is aggressive and nasty.  I'm really glad that I was sitting down at the time. 

It's been twenty-four hours, and I'm still having trouble facing the reality of the situation.  My dear, sweet Amy has cancer.  With her other health problems, complicated by her age and the location of the mass, we cannot in good conscience put her through the stress of treatment ... doing so will reduce her quality of life, and is unlikely to have any benefit. 

I have done a lot of crying in these 24 hours.  We can never know how this will progress, but it will probably be a miracle if Amy sees the end of May.  As I do with all of my critters, I have promised Amy that she will not suffer ... I will take the suffering for her and I will set her free when she tells me that it's time ....

... and I will cherish whatever time Amy and I have left together.  It's never long enough.

Looking for Friday Flowers?

If you've come looking for my usual Friday Flowers feature, I'll have it here tomorrow.  I haven't taken the time to put it together yet.  Today is an early-dismissal day at school, and the little guy will be here pretty soon.

See you tomorrow.

(Here is Amy, peacefully sleeping on the windowsill, to tide you over.)