It's been a grim few weeks for our fur children.
Our sweet cat Clarence died of old age on the morning of Jan. 2. He was already a senior cat when we adopted him from the SPCA in West Chester, and we were blessed to spend three years with him. He was a dear, laid-back fellow. After his harrowing weeks of being a stray, he was just happy to have a warm place to live, plenty of food to eat and people to love him. We buried him in a dignified little ceremony with his favorite food and the blanket I knitted for him.
(Tina has quickly adjusted to being the only cat, although she misses filching Clarence's food.)
Since then, we know of two families who have lost their pets. One was a 21-year-old former barn cat the owners have had since she was six weeks old. They told me that for the past five years, they hadn't expected her to live through the winter.
The other beloved pet who's no longer with us was a neighbor's ever-vigilant border collie who faithfully protected her humans. She spent her long life barking and trying to herd passing horses, bicyclists, joggers, deer and any hapless delivery people who came up the driveway.
We do love our pets, and it certainly hurts when they leave us.
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