I want to thank everyone for responding to my original post. The words
of comfort posted by Noon Cat Nick help, and wester's words of
encouragement also soothe the pain a little. Just to know that there's
someone out there who is listening and is supporting people in times
of loss is encouraging.

Just as I feared, Mitzi's blood work revealed that her kidneys were
failing rapidly. She was pacing around the examination room at the
vet's, crying her normal Siamese meow. I know it was her adrenaline
that was fueling that somewhat energetic behavior. After agonizing
over whether or not to put her down, we decided that it would be best
to do that. It was a hard decidion because the last hours of her life
were filled with typical Mitzi behavior--there was no reversing her
kidney damage though. Nothing could be done for her. She would have
lingered, gotten sicker, and eventually died a more painful death. I
know all these things . . . I still hurt. I hate this feeling.

The vet gave her a tranquillizer; within a minute, maybe not even a
minute she was gone. I always thought that the drug was supposed to
relax the animal, but this injection essentially killed her. I think
she may have had a seizure (I guess it's called death)--I don't
know--but her heartbeat was faint at that point. The vet then gave her
the final injection, and Mitzi died. I can't believe it; I miss her so
much. She was one of a kind--the sweetest, most loving little furry
creature.I know that this may sound odd, but she really seemed like
more than a cat. She had qualities that were human-like. She answered
when she was spoken to; she would nestle in the crook of my arm at
night and reach out with her paw to pat my cheek (or eyebrow or eye
for that matter), rub her head against my chin, purring and 'chirping'
as Siamese will do--at least this Siamese. There's so much to say
about her.

She rests now on the property, next to her kitten, who died of the
same problem just last fall. He was 14; she was almost 16. I know
that's a long life for a cat. I feel empty, sad, waves of grief wash
over me from time to time. I know that this will pass . . . in time .
.. .

Thanks for listening to me.

http://www.indigo.org/rainbowbridge_ver2.html

================================

Strange that so small mortality should leave
So large an emptiness! for as we grieve
Your little life of few but happy years
Ended for us, one who could understand
Each subtle word, and answer hand with hand
Had hardly taken greater toll of tears.

Yet why should we not mourn for as a friend?
That name was yours; if every man would spend
His life as well, earth were not hard to save.
Grant that God made your heart and brain but small.
What more has an archangel than his all?
And all God gave to you, to us you gave.
--Amelia Josephine Burr

================================

Our rooms are very still today,
The loneliness...a void;
That dented pillow mutely mourns
Companionship...destroyed!
That fluffy ball of purring fur--
My comfort--subtle teacher--
Has left a tender tolerance
For every living creature.
My traits and faults were audited
By questioning, loving eyes;
All tests of friendship were fulfilled
By trust that verified.
--Nellie Baldwin Rudser

================================

I shall walk in the sun alone
Whose golden light you loved:
I shall sleep alone
And, stirring, touch an empty place:
I shall write uninterrupted
(Would that your gentle paw
Could stay my moving pen just once again!).

I shall see beauty
But none to match your living grace:
I shall hear music
But not so sweet as the droning song
With which you loved me.

I shall fill my days
But I shall not, cannot forget:
Sleep soft, dear friend,
For while I live you shall not die.
--Michael Joseph, "To a Siamese Cat"

================================

Comrades of our past were they,
Of that unreturning day.
Changed and aging, they and we
Dwelt, it seemed, in sympathy.
Alway from their presence broke
Somewhat which remembrance woke
Of the loved, the lost, the young--
Yet they died, and died unsung....

Fare thee well, companion dear!
Fare for ever well, nor fear,
Tiny though thou art, to stray
Down the uncompanion'd way!
We without thee, little friend,
Many years have not to spend;
What are left, will hardly be
Better than we spent with thee.
--Matthew Arnold

================================

THERE IS A NEW STAR SHINING IN THE SKY TONIGHT...
by Sarah Hartwell

There is an old belief that the stars shining in the night sky are the
spirits of those who have died. They have shed their earthly bodies and
exchanged them for bodies made of light; thousands upon thousands of our
dear departed friends all promoted to glory in the night sky. There is
another saying that the brightest flame burns the shortest.

My friend, you were the brightest star in my own universe. While I burn
on, my flame dimmed by grief and despair at your passing, the stars are
watching me. They are too far away for me to touch, just as you have
gone somewhere I cannot follow until my own star-time comes. They
cannot be held close for comfort, just as I can no longer hold you
close, though I held you close to comfort you in your final hours. We
were together for such a short time, but the stars will burn forever.

One day I will grow tired of this earthbound body, my own star-time will
come and my spirit will soar into the sky to burn with all those friends
who have gone before me. On the inky cloth of space we will be reunited
in constellations of joy. Until then, my flame burns low and dim and
cold without you. Through my tears I look upwards to see if you are
watching me and what do I see?

There is a new star shining in the sky tonight.

================================

Since you have gone the sun has left the sky,
No breezes blow,
No birds sing
To ease the aching vacuum in my heart.
I shall not forget your gentle ways;
No judgements made,
No difficult demands,
No needs save one,
To share your life with mine.
Now kind, uncomprehending people say,
"Cheer up, you'll love another pet some day."
--Hilda Lunn

================================

Pet was never mourned as you,
Purrer of the spotless hue,
Plumy tail, and wistful gaze
While you humoured our queer ways,
Or outshrilled your morning call
Up the stairs and through the hall--
Foot suspended in its fall--
While, expectant, you would stand
Arched, to meet the stroking hand;
Till your way you chose to wend
Yonder, to your tragic end.

Never another pet for me!
Let your place all vacant be;
Better blankness day by day
Than companion torn away.
Better bid her memory fade,
Better blot each mark she made,
Selfishly escape distress
By contrived forgetfulness,
Than preserve her prints to make
Every morn and eve an ache.

From the chair whereon she sat
Sweep her fur, nor wince thereat;
Rake her little pathways out
Mid the bushes roundabout;
Smooth away her talons' mark
From the claw-worn pine-tree bark,
Where she climbed as dusk embrowned,
Waiting us who loitered round.

Strange it is this speechless thing
Subject to our mastering,
Subject for her life and food
To our gift, and time, and mood;
Timid pensioner of us Powers,
Her existence ruled by ours,
Should--by crossing at a breath
Into safe and shielded death,
By the merely taking hence
Of her insignificance--
Loom as largened to the sense,
Shape as part, above man's will,
Of the Imperturbable.

As a prisoner, flight debarred,
Exercising in a yard,
Still retain I, troubled, shaken,
Mean estate, by her forsaken;
And this home, which scarcely took
Impress from her little look,
By her faring to the Far
Grows all eloquent of her.

Housemate, I can think you still
Bounding to the window-sill,
Over which I vaguely see
Your small mound beneath the tree,
Showing in the autumn shade
That you moulder where you played.
--Thomas Hardy

================================

Is Heaven all you asked of it,
O little cat? Did Peter fit
A halo for your graceless head?
Is there a quilt for your special bed,
And a bowl of cream just out of reach
Of your thieving paw? Or do They teach
You not to steal in paradise?
Does the flapping of Their wings entice?
Do you scamper and swing on a golden fence,
Or are They teaching you reverence?
And are there really golden thrones
Up there? Or do the Mighty Ones
Have nice fat chairs that you can claw
And tear and snag with an impious paw?
And do the angels understand
That a little cat in a lonely land
Still longs for a kiss and a friendly cuff?

Celestial joys are not enough.
Please, some small saint in shining white,
Hold her close in your arms tonight.
--Bianca Bradbury

================================

Dancing ribbons pushed by time
Float through an old kitten's dreams.
She chases them into eternity,
And catches them,
As they change into angels' wings.
--Daryl Douglas Foyer

================================

CHOICES
by Anne Kolaczyk

The little orange boy stopped. Behind him, kitties were playing,
chasing each other and wrestling in the warm sunshine. It looked like
so much fun, but in front of him, through the clear stillness of the
pond's water, he could see his mommy. And she was crying.

He pawed at the water, trying to get at her, and when that didn't work,
he jumped into the shallow water. All that got him was wet and Mommy's
image danced away in the ripples. "Mommy!" he cried.

"Is something wrong?"

The little orange boy turned around. A lady was standing at the edge of
the pond, her eyes sad but filled with love. The little orange boy
sighed and walked out of the water. "There's been a mistake," he said.
"I'm not supposed to be here." He looked back at the water. It was
starting to still again and his mommy's image was coming back. "I'm
just a baby. Mommy said it had to be a mistake. She said I wasn't
supposed to come here yet."

The kind lady sighed and sat down on the grass. The little orange boy
climbed into her lap. It wasn't Mommy's lap, but it was almost as good.
When she started to pet him and scratch under his chin like he liked,
he started to purr. He hadn't wanted to, but he couldn't help it. "I'm
afraid there is no mistake. You are supposed to be here and your mommy
knows it deep down in her heart," the lady said.

The little orange boy sighed and laid his head on the lady's leg. "But
she's so sad. It hurts me to see her cry. And Daddy too."

"But they knew right from the beginning this would happen."

"That I was sick?" That surprised the little orange boy. No one had
ever said anything and he had listened when they thought he was
sleeping. All he had heard them talk about was how cute he was or how
fast he was or how big he was getting.

"No, not that you were sick," the lady said. "But you see, they chose
tears."

"No, they didn't," the little orange boy argued. Who would choose to cry?

The lady gently brushed the top of his head with a kiss. It made him
feel safe and loved and warm--but he still worried about his mommy.
"Let me tell you a story," the lady said.

The little orange boy looked up and saw other animals gathering around.

Cats--Big Boy and Snowball and Shamus and Abby and little Cleo and
Robin. Merlin and Toby and Iggy and Zachary. Sweetie and Kamatte and Obie.

Dogs too--Sally and Baby and Morgan and Rocky and Belle. Even a lizard
named Clyde and some rats named Saffron and Becky and a hamster named
Odo. They all lay down near the kind lady and looked up at her, waiting.

She smiled at them and began:

********************************************

A long long time ago, the Loving Ones went to the Angel in Charge. They
were lonesome and asked the angel to help them.

The angel took them to a wall of windows and let them look out the first
window at all sorts of things--dolls and stuffed animals and cars and
toys and sporting events.

"Here are things you can love," the angel said. "They will keep you
from being lonesome."

"Oh, thank you," the Loving Ones said. "These are just what we need."

"You have chosen Pleasure," the angel told them.

But after a time the Loving Ones came back to the Angel in Charge.
"Things are okay to love," they said. "But they don't care that we love
them."

The Angel in Charge led them over to the second window. It looked out
at all sorts of wild animals. "Here are animals to love," he said.
"They will know you love them."

So the Loving Ones hurried out to care for the wild animals. "You have
chosen Satisfaction," the angel said.

Some of the Loving Ones worked at zoos and wild animal preserves, some
just had bird feeders in their yards, but after a time they all came
back to the Angel in Charge.

"They know we love them," they told the angel. "But they don't love us
back. We want to be loved in return."

So the angel took them to the third window and showed them lots of
people walking around, hurrying places. "Here are people for you to
love," the angel told them. So the Loving Ones hurried off to find
other people to love. "You have chosen Commitment," the angel said.

But after a time a lot of Loving Ones came back to the Angel in Charge.
"People were okay to love," they said. "But sometimes they stopped
loving us and left. They broke our hearts."

The angel just shook his head. "I cannot help you," he said. "You will
have to be satisfied with the choices I gave you."

As the Loving Ones were leaving, someone saw a window off to one side
and hurried to look out. Through it, they could see puppies and kittens
and dogs and cats and lizards and hamsters and ferrets. The other
Loving Ones hurried over. "What about these?" they asked.

But the angel just tried to shoo them away. "Those are Personal Empathy
Trainers," he said. "But there's a problem with their system operations."

"Would they know that we love them?" someone asked.

"Yes," the angel said.

"Would they love us back?" another asked.

"Yes," the angel said.

"Will they stop loving us?" someone else asked.

"No," the angel admitted. "They will love you forever."

"Then these are what we want," the Loving Ones said.

But the angel was very upset. "You don't understand," he told them.
"You will have to feed these animals."

"That's all right," the Loving Ones said.

"You will have to clean up after them and take care of them forever."

"We don't care."

The Loving Ones did not listen. They went down to where the Pets were
and picked them up, seeing the love in their own hearts reflected in the
animals' eyes.

"They were not programmed right," the angel said. "We can't offer a
warranty. We don't know how durable they are. Some of their systems
malfunction very quickly, others last a long time."

But the Loving Ones did not care. They were holding the warm little
bodies and finding their hearts so filled with love that they thought
they would burst. "We will take our chances," they said.

"You do not understand." The angel tried one more time. "They are so
dependent on you that even the most well-made of them is not designed to
outlive you. You are destined to suffer their loss."

The Loving Ones looked at the sweetness in their arms and nodded. "That
is how it should be. It is a fair trade for the love they offer."

The angel just watched them all go, shaking his head. "You have chosen
Tears," he whispered.

********************************************

"So it is," the kind lady told the kitties. "And so each mommy and
daddy knows. When they take a baby into their heart, they know that one
day it will leave them and they will cry."

The little orange boy sat up. "So why do they take us in?" he asked.

"Because even a moment of your love is worth years of pain later."

"Oh." The little orange boy got off the lady's lap and went back to the
edge of the pond. His mommy was still there, and still crying. "Will
she ever stop crying?" he asked the kind lady.

She nodded. "You see, the Angel felt sorry for the Loving Ones, knowing
how much they would suffer. He couldn't take the tears away but he made
them special."

She dipped her hand into the pond and let the water trickle off her
fingers. "He made them healing tears, formed from the special water
here. Each tear holds bits of all the happy times of purring and
petting and shared love. And the promise of love once again. As your
mommy cries, she is healing.

"In time, she will be less sad and she will smile when she thinks of
you. And then she will open her heart again to another little baby."

"But then she will cry again one day," the little orange boy said.

The lady just smiled at him as she got to her feet. "No, she will love
again. That is all she will think about." She picked up Big Boy and
Snowball and gave them hugs, then scratched Morgan's ear just how she liked.

"Look," she said. "The butterflies have come. Shall we go over to play?"

The other animals all ran ahead, but the little orange boy wasn't ready
to leave his mommy. "Will I ever get to be with her again?"

The kind lady nodded. "You'll be in the eyes of every kitty she looks
at. You'll be in the purr of every cat she pets. And late at night,
when she's fast asleep, your spirit will snuggle up close to her and you
both will feel at peace. One day soon, you can even send her a rainbow
to tell her you're safe and waiting here for when it's her turn to come."

"I would like that," the little orange boy said and took one long look
at his mommy. He saw her smile slightly through her tears and he knew
she had remembered the time he almost fell into the bathtub.

"I love you, Mommy," he whispered. "It's okay if you cry." He glanced
over at the others, running and playing and laughing with the
butterflies. "Uh, Mommy? I gotta go play now, okay? But I'll be
around, I promise."

Then he turned and raced after the others.

================================

Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you...
I loved you so--
'twas Heaven here with you.
--Isla Paschal Richardson

================================

Farewell, my friends, yet not farewell,
Where I go you too shall dwell.
I am gone before your face,
A moment's time, a little space.
When you come where I have stepped,
You will wonder why you wept.
--Edwin Arnold

================================

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
--Mary E. Frye

================================

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
--adapted from Gaelic runes

================================

Aionía aftís e mnéme--May her memory be eternal.
--from the Eastern Orthodox requiem service

================================

Warm summer sun
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind
Blow softly here,
Green sod above
Lie light, lie light--
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.
--Robert Richardson, adapted from his poem "Annette" in _Willow and
Wattle_ (1893) by Samuel Langhorne Clemens (Mark Twain) as the epitaph
for his daughter, Olivia Susan Clemens


Take care,
Nicholas

http://www.indigo.org/rainbowbridge_ver2.html

================================

Strange that so small mortality should leave
So large an emptiness! for as we grieve
Your little life of few but happy years
Ended for us, one who could understand
Each subtle word, and answer hand with hand
Had hardly taken greater toll of tears.

Yet why should we not mourn for as a friend?
That name was yours; if every man would spend
His life as well, earth were not hard to save.
Grant that God made your heart and brain but small.
What more has an archangel than his all?
And all God gave to you, to us you gave.
--Amelia Josephine Burr

================================

Our rooms are very still today,
The loneliness...a void;
That dented pillow mutely mourns
Companionship...destroyed!
That fluffy ball of purring fur--
My comfort--subtle teacher--
Has left a tender tolerance
For every living creature.
My traits and faults were audited
By questioning, loving eyes;
All tests of friendship were fulfilled
By trust that verified.
--Nellie Baldwin Rudser

================================

I shall walk in the sun alone
Whose golden light you loved:
I shall sleep alone
And, stirring, touch an empty place:
I shall write uninterrupted
(Would that your gentle paw
Could stay my moving pen just once again!).

I shall see beauty
But none to match your living grace:
I shall hear music
But not so sweet as the droning song
With which you loved me.

I shall fill my days
But I shall not, cannot forget:
Sleep soft, dear friend,
For while I live you shall not die.
--Michael Joseph, "To a Siamese Cat"

================================

Comrades of our past were they,
Of that unreturning day.
Changed and aging, they and we
Dwelt, it seemed, in sympathy.
Alway from their presence broke
Somewhat which remembrance woke
Of the loved, the lost, the young--
Yet they died, and died unsung....

Fare thee well, companion dear!
Fare for ever well, nor fear,
Tiny though thou art, to stray
Down the uncompanion'd way!
We without thee, little friend,
Many years have not to spend;
What are left, will hardly be
Better than we spent with thee.
--Matthew Arnold

================================

THERE IS A NEW STAR SHINING IN THE SKY TONIGHT...
by Sarah Hartwell

There is an old belief that the stars shining in the night sky are the
spirits of those who have died. They have shed their earthly bodies and
exchanged them for bodies made of light; thousands upon thousands of our
dear departed friends all promoted to glory in the night sky. There is
another saying that the brightest flame burns the shortest.

My friend, you were the brightest star in my own universe. While I burn
on, my flame dimmed by grief and despair at your passing, the stars are
watching me. They are too far away for me to touch, just as you have
gone somewhere I cannot follow until my own star-time comes. They
cannot be held close for comfort, just as I can no longer hold you
close, though I held you close to comfort you in your final hours. We
were together for such a short time, but the stars will burn forever.

One day I will grow tired of this earthbound body, my own star-time will
come and my spirit will soar into the sky to burn with all those friends
who have gone before me. On the inky cloth of space we will be reunited
in constellations of joy. Until then, my flame burns low and dim and
cold without you. Through my tears I look upwards to see if you are
watching me and what do I see?

There is a new star shining in the sky tonight.

================================

Since you have gone the sun has left the sky,
No breezes blow,
No birds sing
To ease the aching vacuum in my heart.
I shall not forget your gentle ways;
No judgements made,
No difficult demands,
No needs save one,
To share your life with mine.
Now kind, uncomprehending people say,
"Cheer up, you'll love another pet some day."
--Hilda Lunn

================================

Pet was never mourned as you,
Purrer of the spotless hue,
Plumy tail, and wistful gaze
While you humoured our queer ways,
Or outshrilled your morning call
Up the stairs and through the hall--
Foot suspended in its fall--
While, expectant, you would stand
Arched, to meet the stroking hand;
Till your way you chose to wend
Yonder, to your tragic end.

Never another pet for me!
Let your place all vacant be;
Better blankness day by day
Than companion torn away.
Better bid her memory fade,
Better blot each mark she made,
Selfishly escape distress
By contrived forgetfulness,
Than preserve her prints to make
Every morn and eve an ache.

From the chair whereon she sat
Sweep her fur, nor wince thereat;
Rake her little pathways out
Mid the bushes roundabout;
Smooth away her talons' mark
From the claw-worn pine-tree bark,
Where she climbed as dusk embrowned,
Waiting us who loitered round.

Strange it is this speechless thing
Subject to our mastering,
Subject for her life and food
To our gift, and time, and mood;
Timid pensioner of us Powers,
Her existence ruled by ours,
Should--by crossing at a breath
Into safe and shielded death,
By the merely taking hence
Of her insignificance--
Loom as largened to the sense,
Shape as part, above man's will,
Of the Imperturbable.

As a prisoner, flight debarred,
Exercising in a yard,
Still retain I, troubled, shaken,
Mean estate, by her forsaken;
And this home, which scarcely took
Impress from her little look,
By her faring to the Far
Grows all eloquent of her.

Housemate, I can think you still
Bounding to the window-sill,
Over which I vaguely see
Your small mound beneath the tree,
Showing in the autumn shade
That you moulder where you played.
--Thomas Hardy

================================

Is Heaven all you asked of it,
O little cat? Did Peter fit
A halo for your graceless head?
Is there a quilt for your special bed,
And a bowl of cream just out of reach
Of your thieving paw? Or do They teach
You not to steal in paradise?
Does the flapping of Their wings entice?
Do you scamper and swing on a golden fence,
Or are They teaching you reverence?
And are there really golden thrones
Up there? Or do the Mighty Ones
Have nice fat chairs that you can claw
And tear and snag with an impious paw?
And do the angels understand
That a little cat in a lonely land
Still longs for a kiss and a friendly cuff?

Celestial joys are not enough.
Please, some small saint in shining white,
Hold her close in your arms tonight.
--Bianca Bradbury

================================

Dancing ribbons pushed by time
Float through an old kitten's dreams.
She chases them into eternity,
And catches them,
As they change into angels' wings.
--Daryl Douglas Foyer

================================

CHOICES
by Anne Kolaczyk

The little orange boy stopped. Behind him, kitties were playing,
chasing each other and wrestling in the warm sunshine. It looked like
so much fun, but in front of him, through the clear stillness of the
pond's water, he could see his mommy. And she was crying.

He pawed at the water, trying to get at her, and when that didn't work,
he jumped into the shallow water. All that got him was wet and Mommy's
image danced away in the ripples. "Mommy!" he cried.

"Is something wrong?"

The little orange boy turned around. A lady was standing at the edge of
the pond, her eyes sad but filled with love. The little orange boy
sighed and walked out of the water. "There's been a mistake," he said.
"I'm not supposed to be here." He looked back at the water. It was
starting to still again and his mommy's image was coming back. "I'm
just a baby. Mommy said it had to be a mistake. She said I wasn't
supposed to come here yet."

The kind lady sighed and sat down on the grass. The little orange boy
climbed into her lap. It wasn't Mommy's lap, but it was almost as good.
When she started to pet him and scratch under his chin like he liked,
he started to purr. He hadn't wanted to, but he couldn't help it. "I'm
afraid there is no mistake. You are supposed to be here and your mommy
knows it deep down in her heart," the lady said.

The little orange boy sighed and laid his head on the lady's leg. "But
she's so sad. It hurts me to see her cry. And Daddy too."

"But they knew right from the beginning this would happen."

"That I was sick?" That surprised the little orange boy. No one had
ever said anything and he had listened when they thought he was
sleeping. All he had heard them talk about was how cute he was or how
fast he was or how big he was getting.

"No, not that you were sick," the lady said. "But you see, they chose
tears."

"No, they didn't," the little orange boy argued. Who would choose to cry?

The lady gently brushed the top of his head with a kiss. It made him
feel safe and loved and warm--but he still worried about his mommy.
"Let me tell you a story," the lady said.

The little orange boy looked up and saw other animals gathering around.

Cats--Big Boy and Snowball and Shamus and Abby and little Cleo and
Robin. Merlin and Toby and Iggy and Zachary. Sweetie and Kamatte and Obie.

Dogs too--Sally and Baby and Morgan and Rocky and Belle. Even a lizard
named Clyde and some rats named Saffron and Becky and a hamster named
Odo. They all lay down near the kind lady and looked up at her, waiting.

She smiled at them and began:

********************************************

A long long time ago, the Loving Ones went to the Angel in Charge. They
were lonesome and asked the angel to help them.

The angel took them to a wall of windows and let them look out the first
window at all sorts of things--dolls and stuffed animals and cars and
toys and sporting events.

"Here are things you can love," the angel said. "They will keep you
from being lonesome."

"Oh, thank you," the Loving Ones said. "These are just what we need."

"You have chosen Pleasure," the angel told them.

But after a time the Loving Ones came back to the Angel in Charge.
"Things are okay to love," they said. "But they don't care that we love
them."

The Angel in Charge led them over to the second window. It looked out
at all sorts of wild animals. "Here are animals to love," he said.
"They will know you love them."

So the Loving Ones hurried out to care for the wild animals. "You have
chosen Satisfaction," the angel said.

Some of the Loving Ones worked at zoos and wild animal preserves, some
just had bird feeders in their yards, but after a time they all came
back to the Angel in Charge.

"They know we love them," they told the angel. "But they don't love us
back. We want to be loved in return."

So the angel took them to the third window and showed them lots of
people walking around, hurrying places. "Here are people for you to
love," the angel told them. So the Loving Ones hurried off to find
other people to love. "You have chosen Commitment," the angel said.

But after a time a lot of Loving Ones came back to the Angel in Charge.
"People were okay to love," they said. "But sometimes they stopped
loving us and left. They broke our hearts."

The angel just shook his head. "I cannot help you," he said. "You will
have to be satisfied with the choices I gave you."

As the Loving Ones were leaving, someone saw a window off to one side
and hurried to look out. Through it, they could see puppies and kittens
and dogs and cats and lizards and hamsters and ferrets. The other
Loving Ones hurried over. "What about these?" they asked.

But the angel just tried to shoo them away. "Those are Personal Empathy
Trainers," he said. "But there's a problem with their system operations."

"Would they know that we love them?" someone asked.

"Yes," the angel said.

"Would they love us back?" another asked.

"Yes," the angel said.

"Will they stop loving us?" someone else asked.

"No," the angel admitted. "They will love you forever."

"Then these are what we want," the Loving Ones said.

But the angel was very upset. "You don't understand," he told them.
"You will have to feed these animals."

"That's all right," the Loving Ones said.

"You will have to clean up after them and take care of them forever."

"We don't care."

The Loving Ones did not listen. They went down to where the Pets were
and picked them up, seeing the love in their own hearts reflected in the
animals' eyes.

"They were not programmed right," the angel said. "We can't offer a
warranty. We don't know how durable they are. Some of their systems
malfunction very quickly, others last a long time."

But the Loving Ones did not care. They were holding the warm little
bodies and finding their hearts so filled with love that they thought
they would burst. "We will take our chances," they said.

"You do not understand." The angel tried one more time. "They are so
dependent on you that even the most well-made of them is not designed to
outlive you. You are destined to suffer their loss."

The Loving Ones looked at the sweetness in their arms and nodded. "That
is how it should be. It is a fair trade for the love they offer."

The angel just watched them all go, shaking his head. "You have chosen
Tears," he whispered.

********************************************

"So it is," the kind lady told the kitties. "And so each mommy and
daddy knows. When they take a baby into their heart, they know that one
day it will leave them and they will cry."

The little orange boy sat up. "So why do they take us in?" he asked.

"Because even a moment of your love is worth years of pain later."

"Oh." The little orange boy got off the lady's lap and went back to the
edge of the pond. His mommy was still there, and still crying. "Will
she ever stop crying?" he asked the kind lady.

She nodded. "You see, the Angel felt sorry for the Loving Ones, knowing
how much they would suffer. He couldn't take the tears away but he made
them special."

She dipped her hand into the pond and let the water trickle off her
fingers. "He made them healing tears, formed from the special water
here. Each tear holds bits of all the happy times of purring and
petting and shared love. And the promise of love once again. As your
mommy cries, she is healing.

"In time, she will be less sad and she will smile when she thinks of
you. And then she will open her heart again to another little baby."

"But then she will cry again one day," the little orange boy said.

The lady just smiled at him as she got to her feet. "No, she will love
again. That is all she will think about." She picked up Big Boy and
Snowball and gave them hugs, then scratched Morgan's ear just how she liked.

"Look," she said. "The butterflies have come. Shall we go over to play?"

The other animals all ran ahead, but the little orange boy wasn't ready
to leave his mommy. "Will I ever get to be with her again?"

The kind lady nodded. "You'll be in the eyes of every kitty she looks
at. You'll be in the purr of every cat she pets. And late at night,
when she's fast asleep, your spirit will snuggle up close to her and you
both will feel at peace. One day soon, you can even send her a rainbow
to tell her you're safe and waiting here for when it's her turn to come."

"I would like that," the little orange boy said and took one long look
at his mommy. He saw her smile slightly through her tears and he knew
she had remembered the time he almost fell into the bathtub.

"I love you, Mommy," he whispered. "It's okay if you cry." He glanced
over at the others, running and playing and laughing with the
butterflies. "Uh, Mommy? I gotta go play now, okay? But I'll be
around, I promise."

Then he turned and raced after the others.

================================

Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you...
I loved you so--
'twas Heaven here with you.
--Isla Paschal Richardson

================================

Farewell, my friends, yet not farewell,
Where I go you too shall dwell.
I am gone before your face,
A moment's time, a little space.
When you come where I have stepped,
You will wonder why you wept.
--Edwin Arnold

================================

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
--Mary E. Frye

================================

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
--adapted from Gaelic runes

================================

Aionía aftís e mnéme--May her memory be eternal.
--from the Eastern Orthodox requiem service

================================

Warm summer sun
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind
Blow softly here,
Green sod above
Lie light, lie light--
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.
--Robert Richardson, adapted from his poem "Annette" in _Willow and
Wattle_ (1893) by Samuel Langhorne Clemens (Mark Twain) as the epitaph
for his daughter, Olivia Susan Clemens


Take care,
Nicholas