We have both finally accepted that Arnold is not coming home. We had about 7 great years with the sweetest kitty every. He loved to snuggle and I sang soft kitty to him on the last Saturday we saw him.
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Char-li and Spike will show you around!
Getting ready to go to Ruth's Chris from the 13th floor of our hotel. Can you say yummy!
The Varsity for lunch! We ate our way through Atlanta.
It is with much sadness that we face the fact the Benedict Arnold is likely not coming home. Saturday, February 18, the crazy kitty refused to be caught and come in for the night. We have not seen him since. I accepted the fact last week that he was probably was not coming home but we still hope. We see flashes in the window and think it is him coming home but it is a squirrel or leaf falling. The puppies keep looking for him in his chair and at the fence. It is hard to explain to them the dog pack is one less. They keep hoping. I am still hollering for him every time we go out and I am not sure when I will have the heart to stop. I sing "Soft Kitty, warm kitty little ball or fur............" but the rest of the pack does not like as much as he did. No, more lap kitties or head buts or big ol' speeches that if he did not stay inside he would be a coyote snack. If only he would've listen! This was the last picture I have on him taken on February 8th. Mike lost the kitty and I found him in the closet. He was the baddest kitty ever!
