A Rough Start to the Day.

Last Saturday, Mark found a kitten in our yard that was sick and needed some love. As our house is always open to furry creatures in need of a little help I took him in right away and started nursing him back to health. He did okay for a while, but yesterday afternoon he made a very quick decline and at about bedtime it became clear to me that the little guy probably wasn't going to make it through the night. Knowing I had to help my little animal lover understand what was about to happen, I talked to Cougar about how he was very sick and hurting. I told him Heavenly Father might take him to live with him. I told Cougar he should say goodbye to him, just in case. We said goodbye, Cougar sang the kitty Twinkle Twinkle (his favorite song) and then we snuggled for a little while. Being a mommy (and often an impatient mommy) I've seen a lot of tears. Tantrum tears, Owie tears, Don't wanna go to bed tears, Frustrated Tears and Tired tears. Nothing compares to plain old Sad tears. Cougar was fighting to not cry about it, until I told him it was okay. I could just feel his poor heart breaking. We finished the night with Cougar saying two very earnest "Bless my kitty prayers". About an hour after he fell asleep the kitty passed on. This morning we got up early for a "sunrise service". Mark and I explained to Cougar that the kitty found a new home with Jesus. With a shoebox casket we went outside to find a proper place to bury it. Cougar lost it. He didn't want to bury it. I asked what we should do and he said we should put in in the garbage (that's what Mark does with his birds so I guess it makes sense to Cougar) . For the next half hour Cougar cried and told me over and over again that he doesn't like Jesus and wants his kitty back. That was so hard for me to hear. One of those moments that you feel like you're failing and wonder what you're doing wrong. I then felt inspired to tell Cougar about when my grandma died. I told him she was probably playing with our kitty right now. That helped him to feel lots better. I'm sure some would say that 3 1/2 is a little young to understand death, but I've never believed in lying about what happened. ("Fluffy ran away") So, thank you for reading my long blog entry, it was more for me than anyone else. I guess I'm grieving a little too. It does take a lot of energy and love to care for such a sick kitty. Love to all.