Back home, just a little west of where my parents' home sits, once sat an old house. The old structure has been gone for years, but part of the metal fence that once ran around it still stands although very aged, twisted and bent from the elements. Within this fence, is the kitty cemetery. When I was a little girl, we began burying cats here that died on our farm. They were dear friends of mine and deserved a proper burial. That is where Max was buried last week. It's a peaceful spot with a large tree providing shaded protection and a rosebud offering beauty. It's where Pixie, our cat that passesd away last year, rests, joining Precious, my sweeet kitty from college.
Last Friday foretells what is to come in the future. We have two remaining kitties and both were born around the same time, both are more than 10 years old. All we can do is provide them with a loving home until they return to their heavenly home someday.
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