I knew the day would eventually come. It could have happened when I was living in the suburbs of Seattle but it didn’t. It happened here, on the farm.
If you are an animal person it’s never easy losing one of them. In a post way back in June I talked about how I anthropomorphize. In writing it I was of course trying to be funny but in all honesty, there was a bit of truth in it. My pets are members of my family and it started way back when and to this day, hasn’t changed. They may not give monetarily or even be able to give their opinion on aspects of life but they do give something pretty darn special. Otherwise, nobody would have domesticated them to begin with.
Whenever I lose one I always find myself surprised by the sadness and huge amount of loss I feel. It’s an eerie feeling not knowing what happened. Our minds start to go to those sad places, those places where one wishes and prays they went instantly with little to no suffering. My mind goes to those places, especially when finding evidence in the yard of the contrary.
If there is something as a perfect pet it was her. It’s ironic, I never really wanted her in the beginning. For one, she didn’t have a tail. What cat doesn’t have a tail? But she did everything in her power to get my attention and I realized that I wasn’t leaving that shelter without her.
I know, I know. I sound like a crazy cat woman. But if that’s the label one wants to give me because I care for my pets and think of them as part of the family, well, I’ll wear that one proudly.
You were a sweet little girl Lucy. I’m glad your determination shined through and I got to have you for these past four years.
I guess this is the part of farm life I know I’ll never get use to. Actually, this is the part of life I’m not sure I’ll ever get use to. To be honest, it’s just a part of life that sucks. That part where sometimes the good die young.