My Pets, My Family

     I often get surprised expressions when I refer to my cats and dogs as 'my family,' but they truly are.  I have no human family to speak of, except my sister who is very far away. No children, no aunts, uncles, cousins,  no longer a husband, no one.

     My late husband and I cherished our pets, and enjoyed including them in our daily life. After he was gone, and I was in deep grief, my dogs got me up in the morning with a happy face and wagging tail. They looked at me in bewilderment if I did not take them for a walk or play with them. When I cried, they came and sat by me and and pawed my hand, and looked into my eyes with alarm. They ate with me and slept with me, like a wolf pack does.  I had to cheer up, just so they would not be distressed. My cats seemed to see things in the air, and cried out into the empty rooms, maybe wondering where my husband was, and then curled up for comfort, in my lap.

     Yes, my pets are my family, and yesterday was the last day for my two feline members. One was sicker than the other, but since they had been together since birth, and the timid one would have been left behind for maybe a few weeks more, I sent them to Rainbow Bridge together. They were nearly 18, had pampered, healthy lives, after having been abandoned as kittens. They came into our house and immediately befriended us, the dogs, and our other cats. Goodbye, my little orange bookend boys, Ivan and Igor, who very often sat in the same position at the same time. I missed you this morning on the kitchen chairs when came down for my tea, and I will miss you every day.