Fitzwilliam leaps up to touch his paws to my two-year-old's hand, fringed with fog on the cool glass door. As soon as his hind legs return to the wet wood of the porch, he pounces again. Joseph laughs mightily.
Our home has missed a kitty. We've sheltered and loved Artemis and Apollo, Ophelia, and Lydia - mostly strays or soon-to-be animal shelter live-ins. Alas! All have met the same fate, as we live close to a rural road, which most teenagers mistake for a freeway. But, until their end, we make them as happy as any kitty-cat can be.
And isn't that what we all are doing? We don't need to flip to the end of the book, because our ending is known. Every last one of us has the same final word typed into the stories of our lives. Shouldn't that jumpstart us to live and savor each precious moment?
I want to leap like Fitzwilliam, bringing a happiness to my own life and to the lives of others (especially my dear friends).
My dear friend, do you want the same? What have you put off for tomorrow? Isn't today better than never?
The stories that a kitty can tell...and the lessons they can teach. I used to hate cats when I was a kid. I think it was mostly because I was allergic to them. But, I've learned to appreciate the soft furs and purrs that only they can provide.
ReplyDeleteFitzwilliam passed on the other day, a victim of circumstance (dogs). May he rest in peace...