LOL! We have a lot of that around here right now.

 I don't know that I am in anyway ready myself yet though. I'm

I understand. I didn't really plan to get a kitten, either. ;o)

Yes, I was that way inclined too. I just didn't plan on getting a *kitten*.

IBKFergus has shown me just how much Shmogg has aged, how much he has slowed
down. That old poem about three significant days in your pet's life? (posted
below) Shmogg and I have just reached our second significant day. He can no
longer jump up to the top of the washing machine where I served his food
without a stepping stone in half way up. I've stopped feeding him there
because IBKFergus gets there first and eats most of it before Shmogg manages
it, and now feed him on the kitchen floor whilst I"ve locked IBKFergus inthe
laundry with her food. Shmogg no longer wakes me up telling me its breakfast
time, and doesn't weave around my legs whilst I"m preparing food anymore. He
prefers to spend his days asleep in a box on top of hte table rather than
chasing greeblings, inspecting his territory, or indeed, playing bastard cat
tricks. He no longer shows an interest in the Out, and its been a long time
since I've had to do the cat & dog shuffle at the back door. He really
doens't want to move once he's settled down, and will even put up with Cary
"patting" him and pulling his tail rather than moving or even hissing at
him. He's much slower than IBKFergus at everything, although at least he now
baps back if IBKFergus gets too much, but mostly he just wants to sleep and
be left in peace. He doesn't even come on my bed at night anymore, which I
miss dreadfully, because that would mean moving from his box on the table,
and now sometimes at night I hear him howling - which he never did before -
and I have to go and reassure him that we're all still here and he's safe.
Shmogg, my very bestest friend for the last 15 years, is now officially a
geriatric cat. He still has a gleam in his eyes, but I can see the body is
carrying its full 15 years. I am dreading the inevitable third significant
day, and fear it is coming sooner rather than later.

Yowie

A Living Love
by Martin Scot Kosins
If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will
always remember....

The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your young
new friend. You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked
numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder.
Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly
looking "stranger" in a shelter -- simply because something in his eyes
reached your heart.

But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its
special place in your hall or front room -- and when you feel it brush
against you for the first time -- it instills a feeling of pure love you
will carry with you through the many years to come.

The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later. It will be a day
like any other: routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant,
you will look at your longtime friend and see age where you once saw youth.
You will see slow, deliberate steps where you once saw energy. And you will
see sleep when you once saw activity. So you will begin to adjust your
friend's diet -- and you may add a pill or two to her food. And you may feel
a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness. And
you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally
arrives.

And on this day -- if your friend and God have not decided for you, then you
will be faced with making a decision of your own -- on behalf of your
lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit. But
whichever way your friend eventually leaves you, you will feel as alone as a
single star in the dark night.

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they
must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of
family or friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you.

But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many
joy-filled years, you may find that a soul -- a bit smaller in size than
your own -- seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to
come.

And at moments when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen,
you may feel something brush against your leg -- very, very lightly.

And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used
to lay -- you will remember those three significant days. The memory will
most likely to be painful, and leave an ache in your heart... As time passes
the ache will come and go as if it has a life of its own. You will both
reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you. If you reject it, it will
depress you. If you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either way, it will
still be an ache.

But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when -- along with the memory
of your pet -- and piercing through the heaviness in your heart -- there
will come a realization that belongs only to you. It will be as unique and
strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost.

This realization takes the form of a Living Love. Like the heavenly scent of
a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and
grow -- and be there for us to remember. It is a love we have earned. It is
the legacy our pets leave us when they go. And it is a gift we may keep with
us as long as we live.

It is a Love which is ours alone. And until we ourselves leave -- perhaps to
join our Beloved Pets -- it is a Love we will always possess.