Writing and publishing aside, I have to stress just how powerful love can be. Let me broaden that assertion: life can be powerful. Emotions can be powerful. What we fight for and die for–all that can be powerful in ways we can’t even imagine.
I’ve seen more miracles in this short span of time since landing my 3-year contract with Eirelander Publishing than I have in my whole life. I’ve seen death. And then new life. I’ve seen hearts break and then get rebuilt by just a kind word. I’ve seen several people rise from the ashes to become even better than they already were in spite of the world’s suffering.
You see these three cats below? They are miracles. They remind us that the nature God created is utterly perfect. Simple, small animals like these are so capable of love. And we most of the time don’t realize it.
The one in the dress was named Noche. We called her “Princess”.
The other two were brothers. They fought a lot. The white-whiskered one was named Tuxedo, and the other was named Spooky.
Again, I repeat, they are miracles of life. They are the reason we keep fighting to be good at heart. To remember that hate corrodes us all and turns us into demons without any remorse. We’re better than that.
“Princess” was so young, yet so wonderful with her little babies; however, “Princess” had to leave. We still have the kittens. “Princess” had six. Two survived. They will give smiles that will last a lifetime for my little girls.
Tuxedo was the daddy. But he wasn’t any ordinary “daddy”. Usually, the good ol’ tomcat sort of goes up and leaves to hit it with another hot kitty. Tuxedo wasn’t like that, though. He played with his kittens, he loved up on the “Princess”. He never left them. Not once. They slept together, too.
“Princess” died trying to give birth to another litter.
The day “Princess” died, Tuxedo died of a heart attack. The stress of hearing her cries was too much for him. It’s tremendous to think that these animals were so intimate. They were.
Spooky is an entirely different story. But still a miracle. He was a bit of a ruffian. Like I said before, he and his brother Tux fought a lot. Sometimes over “Princess”. He wasn’t terribly nice with the kittens either. But something of a miracle happened to him: he slowly died of what we think could’ve been heartworm disease, before Tuxedo died.
Now let me explain this: to see Spooky waste away every single day wasn’t easy at all. In fact, it was horrifying. But in his time of dying, I swear to you…he made his peace with his brother. And he embraced those kittens as much as he could. He never stopped eating. And he was always happy to see all of us. Right up to his last breath.
These are true stories. They’re true because the evidence exists right in front of me. Two kittens, Rosie and C.J. They carry their mommy and daddy and uncle with them wherever they go. And with me, in my life–my girls’ lives, my lady’s life–they come with us, too. In the end, they never died. They lived.
Show me what you got. See if you can solve this next edition of the “grammar riddle”. Ready? Here it goes…. (Oh, and remember - the answer is a specific literary device or form of some kind).
. Sorry, Mr. Quincy. However, there’s a point to me pointing out Mr. Quincy in this fun-filled post.
