Daddy Cat

Our cat, "Daddy Cat", died today. My heart is more than a little bit broken right now, and I question whether I could have done more.

Daddy was the leader of a family of feral cats that adopted us several years ago. A big black cat, you could tell that he'd had a hard life. We expected him to be a scrapper; but he was a cuddler instead. He first appeared solo on our side porch, and before long his family and several new additions had stolen our hearts.

We've made it a part of our daily routine to feed them, offer shelter, and seek medical attention on their behalf when needed. We'd love them when they'd let us, and let us they did whenever they were here.

I don't question that Daddy Cat was loved. He was, and is loved with all of our hearts, and I think that he knew it. I do question that I should have worked harder to find a proper home for him and his brood. Could I have found a way to offer them a home here with us instead of just shelter? Perhaps if I had, he would be alive today.

I'll never know for sure. I do know that I love him and miss him, and that he deserved a gentler end to his life.

My friend Lynn firmly believes in The Rainbow Bridge. I like that idea, and I do believe that he is in a better place

I have to believe that there's a better place for all of us.