A Death in the Family

               Yesterday, there was a death in the family.  Her name was Piper, and she was 19 years old.  Her coloring was pitch black, and she always moved like a dark zephyr.  She didn’t say much other than to mew a need for her treats of catnip and being caressed. She always joined us for breakfast and insisted on finishing our cereal milk. She loved this attention but was not much interested in anything else other than us. That was it.  Nothing more. 

            In return, she gave unbounded love.  Morning, noon, and night.  She was always there for us.  Whether she got her treats immediately was irrelevant.  They would come; she knew that.  But, now or later, that was not the issue.  She wanted above all to be with us.  Sitting on the sofa while we were watching TV.  Lying in bed between us as we read our books.  She was there.  Even though she was old, she would always follow.  Up the stairs and down the stairs.  She almost wore a track in the rug.  This was true even during her last day on earth when her kidneys were failing and she could neither eat nor drink.  She followed up and down the stairs to wherever we were.

            We knew her time was limited during her last year.  She got thinner and her gait became slower.  Her eyes were dull with cataracts.  But, her love grew stronger by the day.  So, it was with great sorrow that we took her to the animal hospital for the last time.  There she lay cuddled in our lap until her heart stopped beating.  Good-bye friend.  We missed you so much in bed.

            Today, however, a gift was laid on our porch.  A butterfly wing.  Just that.  Nothing else.  But, it was from you.  We know that as we knew the sun rose over a new day without Piper.  But, we know.  Thank you, dear friend.