You aren’t seeing things. There are, as Paul Simon sang, angels in the architecture, especially right now. Gigantic garish gold Styrofoam angels at Macy’s. Skies of heavenly hosts, over mangers and strangers, under trees and eaves. Angels festooning the firmament of your own soul. Every December, without fail, they sing a little louder than usual.
Today we remember. We remember battles and sacrifices, blooming in fields of freedom. We remember the quiet heroics of another species of warrior.
There will never, ever be another Grady. But, this spring, my heart has split open in a way it hadn’t done since last July.
I can hardly believe it’s been over two months since we lost Grady. Has it gotten easier? I know you’ll understand that the answer is yes and no.
…when a serious, loving, seriously-loving family comes to visit one of our quirkier, “less-adoptable” cats once, then twice, then a third time. …or when one of the most terrified cats I’ve ever known purrs – purrs!! – in a human’s presence. …or when even our never-one-to-whitewash-the-truth veterinarian concedes that the improbable, the too-wonderful-to-hope-for, the miraculous, may […]
I don’t want to write this blog post. I don’t want to have a reason to write this post. I’m not ready for that reason, and don’t expect I would have been ready next week, or next month, or next year. But Grady was ready this morning. Our love, our Grady-bug, the snuggle bunny of […]
Psssst…don’t tell Peachy, but remember all that nasty lime-sulfur dipping and banishment she endured to get over ringworm? Well, she’s over ringworm. Because, um, she never had it in the first place.
After whupping lung cancer and winning the heart (okay, the tolerance) of the formerly cat-hating Peachy, our Grady found himself in need of a new challenge. “Fortunately”, a new nemesis was just around the corner… Ringworm. (Cue villain music here.)
News flash from Gradyville: our beloved boy is now off all medications! If we thought Grady was a happy soul before, the tabby love-bug of the lobby has redefined “happy” for us now. The very day that Grady’s hated meds stopped, he was giddier than a 4-year-old at Disney Land.
OK, OK, so Grady isn’t literally singing (but I promise I’d get video for you if he was). Still, Gene Autry’s hopeful tune is apt for our Grady today, as long as by “saddle” we mean “lobby.” Yep: Grady’s back home in the heart of Tabby’s Place!