Furface was gone ... and then ... I don't understand what God's purposes are ...

My "Lion King"

Before I left to teach this evening, Furface followed me from the bed where he was nestled under my chin to the front door. For the first time, I heard him cry. I told him I would be back within a few hours (four) and he sort of slunk under a pile of boxes just inside the front entrance. He fell twice. I knew his time was coming very soon.

As I was driving to school, I resolved to have the dear soul (sorry, fellow Christians, but my cats have immortal souls; I'd bet my life on it) put to sleep. I'd be at the vet's almost before he opened, I decided.

Anyway, I spent the two hours at Grays Harbor College and then drove home -- each way is roughly an hour, meaning I was gone from five till nine, more or less.

As I came in the door, I was shuffling into the dark house backwards with my briefcase and the newspaper when I felt something on the floor -- typical actually, since the cats are always rearranging their toys and my sweaters that are draped over chairs, etc. I don't know how many times I've fallen over completely on one of their balls or a milk bottle cap, etc.

But when I flicked on the light, my heart sank.

Furface was lying stone still on the floor stretched out and facing the door. I felt him and he was cold as ice. I shook him and his body remained stiff and still. I knew I had lost my best friend.

The other cats kept their distance as I just looked sadly upon the still body.

I decided that I would bury him first thing in the morning and would let him lie where he fell. He looked so peaceful there.

Then I came over here to the computer to create this posting. Tears were in my eyes, but I knew I had to do something or I'd break into a million pieces. I had just framed my favorite picture of him and was uploading it when I heard a "groan" from the direction of the front door. Sure enough, Furface was letting out a low-pitched cry while still lying stiff on his side. No movement ... just the sound.

I picked his very cold body up and it is lying limp on my lap with a heater blowing fiercely on both of us at this very minute. He may live the night; he may not. But he will be warm as I can make him against my body till morning -- once the heater puts some warmth into him.

He can't eat ... even earlier I tried my best and he would only fall over next to his dish. He only purred while we napped before I went to school. Hopefully, I'll hear him purr again tonight after he warms up some and we head for bed (I'll have to carry him; his strength is gone) in a little while.

Whatever, unless things change, it appears that he will go slowly sometime in the next few hours. For the moment my very best friend is lying stone still on my lap -- not even a sign of his breathing and no heartbeat that I can hear. Only a soft meow now and then from a foaming mouth that remains stone still, but open.

Why God wants him to live these few hours (or minutes) longer, I don't know. But thank you (in advance), Jesus, for answering my prayers as regards his dying a peaceful death.

I'll write again tomorrow ... or whenever ...