I had a good day at work. Tomorrow is Friday, so we will be busy. Then I'M OFF FOR THE WHOLE WEEKEND! Think I'm looking forward to it?
I was pondering tonight how much harder these last few months would have been without the animals. Their unconditional - and exuberant - love has meant so much to me while I wrestled with Cymbalta withdrawal. Jethro, of course, is a 55-pound cuddly lap dog. Hunter lies next to my shoulder on the back of the couch and comes and curls up on me at night when I'm asleep. And Abby sleeps at my feet and likes to lie next to me on the couch in the evenings.
Jethro has been wonderful since before you died. All that time you were in hospitals, he was here with me. He slept on your side of the bed at night and met me at the door when I came home. There were many times I hated having to leave you and come home - constrained by the limit of the puppy-bladder - but it was probably better for both of us that I had to leave sometime. Before the girls moved in and after they moved out, he kept me from living completely alone. He gave me somebody to interact with and take care of. And then he started collecting kittens, which has enriched my life and provided endless entertainment.
They aren't a replacement for you but they make me feel the loss a little less. This is the first time I've been on my own, since I graduated from college one Saturday and married you the next. They're good company, and with them around I don't feel alone. I get lots of warm cuddles and kisses, and plenty of love.
So when you pray for me, remember them, too. The day will most likely come when I will have to give Jethro to you. The cats, having longer lifespans, may well outlive me. I'd like it if all of us could just come to you together. That would be easier for everybody. But, for now, we're looking after each other here, and we're doing okay.
Love from all you little family,