When you are Called Upon
My dear, sweet Squirt. It has been an honor and a privilege to care for you these past two years. Every time you sped down the hallway or basked on the window perch, you showed me that you were happy. You warmed my heart. I terribly miss hearing your meow greeting every time I walked in the door. Maybe one day the extreme sorrow of missing your purr and cradling you in my arms won’t hurt as bad. Despite all that we went through with your health, you always gave me unconditional love. I’m forever grateful to my mom who brought us together. Thank you, my beloved Squirt, for coming into my life and enriching it so much. I hope that I lived up to my promise the day we met that I’d give you a great life.
I remember the day we met. It was a typical Autumn day in November of 2015; the four of us were huddled in Bill and Kay’s former 500 foot two-bedroom assisted-living apartment. She kept darting from the family member who was now left behind to find her a home. I felt so bad for her. It was obvious that she hid because she was frightened. I could also tell there was not a mean bone in her body. She was just scared. I’m hoping that she sensed someone familiar was there—my mom. After all, we called her by name…Squirt.
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Thank you for reading our story, Denise