When God’s creatures die, even the littlest, life must be acknowledged, celebrated.
The other day I received a phone call from my daughter telling me of the untimely death of a cat named Coach, who actually thought he was a dog, and maybe he was. Certainly the proverbial nine lives did not seem to apply to him. He was a leader among his fellow house cats and a lover of humans, no scaredy-cat. He had presence, panache.
When my son-in-law sent out pictures of Coach to his friends and relatives, a photo obituary, not for a moment did I think he was “over the top.” As a matter of fact, it’s made me realize the importance of paying attention to these little lives, which may not be so little after all.
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