Loss of a Fur-iend

Monday morning about 6 am...it is just starting to rain in earnest, after drizzling the last hour or so. The weather is gray, dreary..another night of tossing and turning, and I am finally comfy-cozy and (probably) snoring. Tim has been up a few minutes-I felt the bed move when he got up. Just as I am drifting back off to dream land, I hear his footsteps, and THAT voice saying,"Denise, I think something is wrong." He doesn't have to say it loud, or repeat it. When he says anything with THAT voice, I KNOW something bad has happened. I bolt up out of the bed, and there he stands-shaking, pointing at the window, says one word..."Ophie." I run out the front door, and there she is...lying at the edge of the street at the end of Mom's driveway. Her skull is..No it CANNOT BE HER. But it is...her big belly, the little scattering white hairs just on her chest...my baby is gone. She is buried in the new bed..the one that will soon hold my hibiscus that she loved to lay underneath on the deck.

I miss her more than words can say. She was my baby when we went to California, taking her mom and littermates-all boys, and all of them only a week old. She was the only one left of the litter, and we lost her mom just a few months after our return to Mississippi. She would talk to you, gave some seriously awesome snuggle, loved Rusty, and would stand on the table on the deck to 'headbutt' Tim every time he came home.


Bye, Ophie...we love you.