Tag Archive | GOD

Angel. A kitten of any other name, just wouldn’t be the same.

I once lifted a lifeless, near frozen kitten out from under a wooden step. His mother had refused to feed him and left him trapped under our back porch deck. For several days he was under the deck. I never imagined a mother could abandon her baby like that, but she did. I only assumed, and had hoped that she had been taking care of him. I was wrong. She had left him to die.

A baby is born with a need to be loved – and never outgrows it. ~ Frank A. Clark

The tiny kitten, had somehow managed to crawl himself under the connecting porch step which was sealed in front, top and sides (basically it was like a box with a sealed lid). I heard his cries getting softer. At first, I had hoped that the mother’s intuition would kick in, and she would finally nurse her sickly sounding baby. She never did. It had gotten quiet, and I could barely hear a sound. I thought I had to be mistaken. I ran over to the step, and listened. Nothing. My heart started to race with panic. Did I wait too long? I hollered into the house, for my husband to get his crowbar. I needed him to pry the step apart.

Love unlocks doors and opens windows that weren’t even there before. ~Mignon McLaughlin

My own heart skipped a beat, as I saw the baby kitten through a tiny crack that was made from the crowbar. He wasn’t breathing. In mere seconds, the top board was off. I reached in and picked his hardening, and ice cold, lifeless body out from the step. Was I too late? Please God, no, (I prayed over and over in my head). I refused to let him pass from this life. I refused to let him die.

I carried him inside the house, and grabbed a few kitchen dish towels. I heated the towels in the microwave for 15 seconds each, and wrapped them around this kitten. I did this “every five minutes” for the next four and a half hours. I held him in my arms, while sitting on the couch (semi watching tv), and talking to him and to God. With each trip to the microwave, I hugged him close to my chest. The towels warmed my hands, while thawing his tiny body. I was determined, I wasn’t prepared to stop. That is, until slowly, a tiny, furry white arm, reached out from under a towel, as if to say ‘alright, I’m alive, stop it with the hot towels already!’

With God all things are possible. Mat. 19:26

In that moment, I felt one of the greatest feelings I have ever felt. I saved a life. I felt as if God himself had done his work, through me. It was beyond amazing. It was itself, a miracle. My eyes teared up. I was overwhelmed. with joy, with relief, and also with a sadness that I could finally let go. I no longer had to feel sorrow. I didn’t need to because he did not die. For a few minutes I felt like a hero. It was pretty cool. My micro waved towels idea – they worked. But wait, it wasn’t just me…..it was really my prayers that had been answered. That’s what worked. Ultimately, that is what healed him. Without further thought, I had found a name come rushing to my mind. I called my little kitten “Angel”.

Nursing "Angel" back to health

Nursing “Angel” back to health

Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much perfoms much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well. ~ Vincent Van Gogh

In the days following, I began to nurse him back to health. He wasn’t the ’prettiest’ to look at, at first as some might‘ve thought. He had teary eyes and looked a little sickly. He almost died after all! My “Angel” was not stunted in any way, from his moments (technically hours) of death. Over a time, he grew to a normal size. He was quite healthy, although he did have an occasional bout of lazy eye, and he was a little deaf. I would stomp on the ground when I wanted to get his attention. A couple of thumps on the sidewalk and Angel would come running from around the corner, always happy to see me. Always full of energy and spunk. He was my little pal. He was so cute. So cuddly soft, and the whitest of white thick fur with patches of orange stripe. And did I say cute? Yes, he was adorable. He really was….lazy eye and all. His lazy eye was kind of funny at times and the hubby dubbed him “Chico”!

Angel on road to recovery

Angel on road to recovery

Like a Mom, I taught Angel how to climb a tree, just as I did his brothers and sisters before him. He followed me around the yard, while I watered flowers, pulled weeds and took pictures etc. He was learning. Learning about me, as much as learning about himself. He learned what he could and could not do. He also made friends with his once estranged brothers and sisters. Angel and his Mom bonded once he was well again. His Mom, Callie, tended to give Angel the cold shoulder, but on so many occasions I caught her tenderly grooming him, and then holding/hugging him during naps. If Angel happened to “ignore” his mom, she would taunt him with her tail, until he played with her.

omma Callie & Angel taking a nap

Momma Callie & Angel taking a nap

He became best buds with our outside yellow Lab. Angel and Jake routinely slept together…..that is, Jake, (often reluctantly), allowed Angel to sleep on top of him. (I had many photos of the two, but as of this writing, I sadly cannot locate them on my computer. If I find them later on, I will edit and add them).

Angel would only climb trees if I was nearby.

Angel would only climb trees if I was nearby.

Angel and a Thistle. (She loved to pose!)

Angel and a Thistle. (She loved to pose!)

Angel was always rubbing into our Labs’ face…somewhat annoying him, perhaps getting fur on his nose…..getting Jake to stand up and move…..over and over again. It was Angels’ little game. Angel was a very active, and playful two year old. He paled around with me, Jake (and the other cats) for about 2 years. That is, until one day, he just disappeared.

Angel

Angel

Angel was never one to leave my yard. He was always here. He ’never’ went beyond the fence he sat on…..unless I carried him. He would always stop short, as if there was an imaginary boundary telling him to stay put. It has been over a year now since he disappeared. I like to believe, that a traveling salesman picked Angel up and kept him to be his own pet, because the guy thought our cat was cool (that was the last time I saw him). I am hoping also, that he is still playing with someone else’s dog and sleeping on them too, like he had done with our lab. It is a much better thought, than the alternative.

I loved that little kitten that I rescued from under the wooden step, and I love & will remember the fun, happy, playful cat that he grew to be. I also know that I will see him again to, after all…. he is my little “Angel”

In Remembrance.

In  Remembrance of you Angel, wherever you are. <3

In Remembrance of you Angel, wherever you are. ❤

If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear pain or loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater.

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Roses from the Garden

A great pleasure of mine is time spent in my garden.  Sitting, walking, daydreaming and yes, even weeding.  I could spend all my waking hours just meandering outside.  Stopping along the way to pull a weed, sniff a flower, or to gaze at the blue clear sky.  Watching occasional puffy white clouds slowly moving by as they take the shape in an array of made up creatures and faces.

“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow” Audrey Hepburn

Recognizing the gift of hearing, I Listen to the many voices of the chirping birds. the buzzing of the bees and the croaking of the frogs. Hearing single-engine planes off in the distance of neighboring skies, while a few doors away a lawn mower clips some grass. Laughter fills the air, as the young children next door play gleefully; chasing puppy dogs and being silly.

“The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings”. – Eric Hoffer

I awoke yesterday morning, to my (un-prunned) rosebush in full bloom. Wow, what a sight! With pruning sheers in hand, I headed out of doors, and into my backyard. I delighted in the sweet scent of my fittingly named “Knockout Roses”.  I snipped my first rose of the season, and as I closed my eyes I took a deep but gentle breath in through my nose. The beautiful smell took me away to a place of pure enjoyment. A scent I can only describe as…….. Heavenly.  I cannot begin to tell you, how thankful to God I am, for my sense of smell & the gift of sight; to see such beauty.  How very thankful I am also, to my husband, for buying that first young rosebush several years ago. I love roses so much, that I named my cottage “La Vie en Rose” which means, “life in pink” or “living life through rose colored glasses”!  I will write about my cottage in a future post (coming soon).

Rose cuttings in wicker

“The fragrance always remains on the hand that gives the rose”. – Gandhi

Roses in the garden are for me, like butter is to toast. You just have to have them. Toast without butter would be dry and tasteless. A garden without roses would be, well, I just couldn’t imagine having a garden anymore without roses.  I need them.  They bring a lot of happiness to me!

Roses n wicker

“God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say, ‘Thank you?’ – William Ward

In light of Mother’s day coming up in just three days, might I recommend getting a live “Knockout Rose” if you don’t already have one, for your wife or mothers garden? It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.  It is very low maintenance.  I think it even grows out of neglect.  Virtually failproof I guess you could say.  I sadly, have not given mine a proper “cut back” since it was planted about 4 years ago.  It still is thriving! I do trim it however, to fill an abundance of vases all spring and summer long; even well into fall here in middle Tennessee.  The more you cut, the more it blooms.  I snip flowers just about every day. I am noticing, as the older my rose bush gets, the thorns are getting larger, and stronger.

From a bush of thorns bears a fragrant rose…….

“When you are grateful, fear disappears and abundance appears”. – Anthony Robbins

Happy gardening!

It’s about (spring) time!

Looks like we made it. Pretty far into April, but spring has finally arrived here in Tennessee.  And it’s about time!

Spring. A time of renewal. A time of growth. A time of fresh, crisp, clean air in the mornings.  Bright sun beckoning you to shed your coats and enter each day with flip flops, cotton shorts and tank tops.

Days get longer, and life bounces into your steps. Smiles seem to come easier in the spring. I see many more toothy smiles when the spring is new.  It just makes us all happier.  Spring. One of my favorite times of the year.

I ventured outside two weeks ago, for my first yard cleanup. My intentions were, to clean up my garden, with weeding and some planting. I made it as far as our woods to throw a few dead leaves.  Then I lost 5 hrs of my day, to picking up fallen limbs and sticks, and starting a fire in our fire pit. I felt a huge sense of accomplishment. I even toasted a few marshmallows.  I paid for it, the next day, and for 2 weeks. I am still paying for it. My back gave out.

What a man needs in gardening is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it. ~Charles Dudley Warner, My Summer in a Garden, 1871

Donning a back brace and handling a cane, I gimped outside today. I am tired of feeling helpless. I pulled some weeds, in my gardens, around my house. It was a daunting task, and even though it hurt more than usual, it also felt good to tidy it up a little. Much more needs to be done, but all in good time.

Greeting spring with it's first sign of life, and color!

Hummingbird. Greeting spring with it’s first sign of life, and color.

The first thing I do every year, is to fill several of these little feeders with colored sugar water. These fragile  ‘looking’  birds grace my front porch in swarms, buzzing about  and working themselves into an almost “high” like frenzy. I sit in a rocker close by, and I am always greeted just inches from my face with a curious hummingbird. I hold my breath, as not to startle him/her. Of course, I talk to them.

Oregano starting to grow.

Oregano starting to grow.

My first Oregano planting ever. I am excited to see how these work for me.  They have already begun to emerge after about 1-2 weeks.

 

Yellow Coreopsis   emerging.

Yellow Coreopsis emerging.

Butterflies really love Coreopsis. These dainty flowers last well into the summer and early fall.

White Crepe Mrytle finally getting its buds into its second year.

White Crepe Mrytle finally getting its buds into its second year.

We had a long winter and several late frosts. I was beginning to think my Mrytles were lost. This is a welcome sight to see.

Russian Sage. Still needing some cut back, but is starting to grow.

Russian Sage. Still needing some cut back, but is starting to grow.

This is my next project. I need to place some river rock around my new flower bed. I have been collecting river rock for a year from places  I travel to, to implement in my garden.

Pink Dianthus in full bloom. This smells heavenly.

Pink Dianthus in full bloom. This smells heavenly.

See my Gnomes and their Mushroom? I paint these every year. They are beginning to fade.

Yellow Daylily. When bloomed, the Light fragrance is dreamy. Even my husband loves this one!

Yellow Daylily. When bloomed, the Light fragrance is dreamy. Even my husband loves this one!

I gathered the weeds here after I snapped the picture.

White variegated Hosta. I can always count on these to bloom, whether in full sun or shade. My go to plant to fill a space.

White variegated Hosta. I can always count on these to bloom, whether in full sun or shade.

My go to plant to fill a space, is Hostas. They are simple to grow, and very low maintenance.  Just dig a hole, plant them and you are done! Once established, they do not need much watering.

Cornus Sericea. This is really full so far this spring. It has white flowers on some of the branches. In the winter, it's stems turn red.

Cornus Sericea. This has really thickened so far this spring. It has white flowers on some of the branches.

In the winter, the stems on the Cornus Sericea turn red and drop their leaves.   My beautiful garden statue adds Angelic peace and a touch of romance to this part of my garden.She overlooks a cement garden bench that I often sit upon, gazing over green pastures.

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in. ~George Washington Carver

Purple Creeping Phlox. One of my favorites with its hypnotic  &  amazing scented flowers.

Purple Creeping Phlox. One of my favorites with its hypnotic & amazing scented flowers. These are in full bloom.

My little cement dog was a real find at a closed up shop in Cross plains, TN.  I picked him up for a mere 5 dollars.  He was crumbling on his base, but I buried him in the pea gravel. His is standing a firm watch.

More Light Yellow Day-lilies. These should bloom soon.

More Light Yellow Day-lilies. These should bloom soon.

My gardens are a continuing work in progress. I like to implement recycled items into them. The brick used around my cottage was from our front porch step that we knocked out when we poured a new sidewalk.

Chives. (Allium schoenoprasum) Nice onion-y flavor and scent, good in salads.

Chives. (Allium schoenoprasum) Nice onion-y flavor and scent, good in salads.

I have several cats that avoid this area, thankfully, due to the Chives here. Cats do not like onions! Now, to get them to stay away from my Thyme.

Pink Knock out Roses. My all-time favorite in my garden. I am ready for this to bloom again this year. I didn't cut it back, and it is getting over grown, but just wait till it blooms!

Pink Knock out Roses. My all-time favorite in my garden. I am ready for this to bloom again this year. I didn’t cut it back, and it is getting over grown, but just wait till it blooms!

Leo, one of my girls here, tends to follow me about my yard and gardens. I stop to hold her many, many……many times.  All my cats tend to drink from this fountain. I used to worry about them digging and ruining my plants. Once I gave up chasing them, they left things alone. My advice? Let them be. They will become lovers, not fighters, and actually stop to smell the roses with you!

I have many more perennial flowers, and plants that I will save for future posts.  More to come.

What plants are your favorite in the garden?

(Solar) Nighttime Angel watching over my garden.

(Solar) Nighttime Angel watching over my garden.

I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden.  ~Ruth Stout

Christmas thoughts

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Christmas as an adult, when our kids were little, was very exciting. Full of hope, and promise. Full of anticipation, of wonder. Seeing the eyes light up of both my boys when they were very small, meant more to me than any gift I could receive.

My first year, as a “Mom” was more for my Husband and I, than my oldest son. He was just nine months old, and I hardly think he could focus on more than just his Gerber peas and carrots. Yeah, It was mommy and daddy whose gift was abundant from the joy of their first born son. God himself,  gave us that gift.Unwrapping all the presents that our young baby would soon learn from,  just made our hearts beat happily. Beating to tunes, like that coming from a  drummer marching in a parade down main street on the fouth of July!

Our “second” Christmas, well, that was amazing for our little boy (and of course, us)! He had some of the biggest eyes you could ever imagine. He had a bounce in his step (just like Santa), and a sparkle in his eyes as he gazed upon all the lights, garlands, hanging tinsel and other decorations adorning our tree.He raced, to pick up and open packages of stuffed animals, cars and early learning type toys. Mostly Sesame Street. I guess he knew instinctively, that he was to tear off the pretty, colorful paper adorned with ribbons & bows and curly strings that wrapped the gifts.  I don’t recall telling him. His favorite present, a stuffed silly looking character, was “Elmo”. Man, he carried that thing everywhere. It’s wobbly limbs all fuzzy and soft. It’s big hard plastic white & black eyes. The bright, fire engine red fur. He loved that thing. For a year it was his favorite friend and toy. Carrying it around, with his cuddly blanket (his first true love). His favorite, that is, until I shared with him MY favorite toy from when I was a baby. My Teddy bear, which he gave the honoring name of “Mow”. To this day, I have no idea how he came up with it, or what it meant. I never did have a name for him (Mow) when I was little. To me I guess, “My Teddy Bear”, was his name.

By the time our third Christmas rolled around, our second  son that we were blessed with, was s only a month and a half old. The season pretty much went unnoticed by that little guy. His eyes could barely stay focused on the lights. No matter though, his “Bub” got the cool stuff, while again, the new baby gets the softie toys, blankets and books! Plenty of clothing for the upcoming months, the necessities. The things older folks would call, the boring stuff.

This newly born baby was raised on Disney, and therefor, he got all Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck type toys in his first few years. That is, until he showed an interest in Football. Then he became a New York Giants Fan. (Like his father). To this day, over 20 years later, he Loves the Giants. He always starts out the football season with a strong attitude. All pumped up with excitement for his team.  Gathering fun facts about the latest players. Conversations with dad daily, about stats from all the teams in the nfl.
Then, slowly as the weeks pass, his interest starts to fizzle. By the end of the season getting him to sit on the couch for a game is like pulling teeth. That is unless, unless his team is in the playoffs or better yet….the Superbowl. Between the two of them, no muzzle can contain the noise of billowing excitement that comes from their mouths. Nor would I allow it. I enjoy hearing them sharing football time.

Through the years, the growing boys both went through many phases of interests. There were trucks, micro machines, GI Joes and Matchbox. Wrestling figures, Star Wars, sketch pads & paint. Fieval, Indian in the Cupboard, Skateboards & bikes. So many things that came and went. An abundance of bills left our wallets through the course of two childhoods, yet I bet, neither could name one thing they remember playing with for any length of time. Pack rat that I am, I saved a few things over the years that I hope to pass on to each of their (highly anticipated by me) children.

I looked forward to decorating our Christmas tree each year, with newly made crafts that the boys each would make in class at school. Paper plate wreaths, or macaroni noodle chains. Pipe cleaner candy canes and clothespin reindeer. Cute ornies from cute kids. The memory of  kids crafting days stays with me. I enjoy the thought of their tiny hands cutting through construction paper, while awkwardly holding the miniature plastic, dull edged scissors.  White glue sticks, leaving sticky patches of marks on the crafting tables that picked up lint or teenie tiny paper scraps. Assorted Crayola paint and marker colors that I worried would not wash from their clothing (but did). Thinking about how hard it must’ve been, as a toddler, to keep their handmade gifts a secret, and how smart they were, to remember them on Christmas day to give them to us.

Sadly, With the curse of time, mice & our move across the country; some crafts and ornaments they made were destroyed and can no longer grace our tree. But I always put something on our tree that they made.  Something, is a stretch. If anyone knows me well, they know that barely a green limb of tree is showing. I pack that baby with lots of stuff. Rubbermaid bins were a great invention. The old adage “the more the merrier” was intended for people like me, and their Christmas trees, and I have a LOT of bins to prove it 😉

Christmas morning gift giving is a little different now, with grown children. A little sadness enters the room. Gone is all that excitement, the fast ripping of colored paper. They are all grown now and he toys aren’t toys anymore. The gift matter has changed quite a bit. Technology has gotten way far advanced for my liking. But, always being our children, we want to get them things they “want”.  Most of it is however, beyond our pocket depth. So, we seem to be resorting to necessities ( you know, those boring gifts they don’t want to waste their own every day money on), and a few small things on their lists (yes, we still ask for ideas of what they want, their wish lists lol). We keep stressing to them, that they need to hurry it up and bring us our Grand kids, and they will see for themselves. That the gift of Christmas, is seen in the eyes of a child.That’s where real pleasure will fill their hearts.  Then as Grandparents, we can shower them again, in toys…..for “their” children.  Oh, how I can’t wait!

At some point in time, it’s only natural for an adult to dream about far away places to travel. White sandy beaches riding bareback on a gallant Stallion.  Flights to Rome, sipping wine and floating down city streets made of river water. Treks across the desert to meander through pyramids where Pharaohs lived out their destiny. Walking through Castles in England  where Kings and Queens once ruled, or the rolling green hills of Ireland where my ancestors come from.There was a time my dreams “might” have been bought at a ticket counter in an airport. A time when I may have scheduled or planned a vacation of a lifetime.

Now, and more frequently as I am growing older and more sentimental; my dreams are purely to remember a time that was so simple and right in front of me all along. A time that can no longer be brought back, except in those dreams behind closed eyes. Dreams that no money in the world could buy, nor replace. Thoughts that drift into my mind when the room is silent. Memories of the best years of my life. Time spent with my family,  of raising my own children, of growing and aging with them and with my sweet husband & lifelong friend, of all our pet family who shared our lives throughout the years. Times also of my own childhood, with my own brothers and sister and mom and dad. Dreams of  all my Christmases. The time out of each year that we all come together, and dedicate our thankfulness of Jesus’ birth, our birth, theirs. And for all the Lord has blessed us with. Our dreams are, our memories. Our memories, our Love. That is what Christmas, and this life is about. Love.

When fall rolls around, I plan, in my mind,  on starting the holidays a bit early. The cookies, the meal planning, the decorations, the lights, tree, wreaths, cards, gifts, the get togethers. Right up until the last minute, my mind is a whirlwind. Nothing gets done until, just days before. When it’s all said and done, I wish I had stopped planning and just did things. After I put the Christmas tree up, I never want to take it down. I want the warmth of Christmas to last forever. The memories to stay alive in my mind.  The family to be together, the happiness to last.

I keep my tree up for a few weeks. Well into January. Each and every night, I stare into the twinkling lights and glistening tinsel. I think about each ornament on every branch. The beautiful scent grows with each passing day.  I see the star atop the tree and think back to the day, when the first star shined. When the warmth all started. It wasn’t in my lifetime, but rather when Jesus was born. If everyone in the world could hold onto that thought, that feeling, that reason for our season. It would be Christmas every day of the year.

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Thanksgiving

Turkey for you & turkey for me…….(thinking of Adam Sandlers Turkey song)!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-z27FKwupds

Oh boy, do I Looooove turkey! If I could live on only one meat for all my life, it would be turkey. Give me a Thanksgiving Turkey dinner any day of the week, and let’s NOT forget the gravy!

Thanksgiving is the start of the holiday season. A time when family gets together for a beautiful home cooked meal, that’s more grand than any other day of the year (except Christmas). The fine China comes out. Tablecloths are put on the table. Linen napkins are pressed, and we use real pretty glasses instead of drinking out of soda cans, plastic cups or water bottles! (even Northern rednecks are lazy 😉

It get’s hard-working around busy schedules, but where there is a will, there’s a way to have the whole family come together for a tasty holiday meal. My family always manages to pull it off. Yes, We might eat at odd hours. Later in the day, rather than earlier, but does the hour really matter? Nope. Not with me. Any hour of the day that brings us all together is the hour I am happy with.

We try our hardest to have Thanksgiving on the table on the 28th, but, as this year would have it, work schedules made it a day later. All went well though and bellies expanded.

I am thankful each any every day for the family God has so richly blessed me with.  For my health, for knowing Love, and for the person I am becoming! I am so very thankful for everything I have been given, from my head to my toes and all my thoughts, feelings and capabilities. Thankful for Music, flowers & hugs, hugs hugs!!!

God has two dwellings: one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful heart.

Turkey Thanksgiving'13

Lost a good friend, and family member. Very sad day.

For Jakey.

I look down, to the end of the yard. To the cage with the open gate.
The place, which the past few months, became your home, and the home you’d grow to hate.
It wasn’t such a bad place, you had four walls, a roof and floor. You no longer were able to come and go, like there were, a revolving door.
You had to stay, in at night, and through the long hot days.
Though you didn’t put up a fuss, because you knew, it was to keep you safe.
Your yard kept you fenced in, for your safety of course. But you no longer had a pond to swim, and you couldn’t chase, the neighbors horse.
Your arthritis made you achy, and your face, it looked so sad.
We often felt so helpless, but we gave you, the love we had.
I hope you felt it, in your heart, and now know upon your soul. That you really were a good boy, and we really loved you so.
A life you lived of freedom, you always came and went. But in your final days of living, you were told that “you can’t”.
You can’t go for long walks any more, your achy bones will not allow.
You can’t roam in to the neighbors fields, to lay near the stinky cow.
You can’t run, chasing floating leaves. Can’t pick up foot long sticks.
You can’t drag around your stuffed toys, can’t set them on the bricks.
You can’t climb the steps, up to the porch, can’t lay on our front door mat.
You can’t run off in to the woods no more, and can no longer befriend the cats.
No, all these things we watched you do, for the past many years. We often yelled, and called you home, but now you’re no longer here.
I look down to the end of the yard, to the cage with the open gate.
It’s empty now. I don’t see you there. It’s the empty cage, I’ll grow to hate.
I already miss my friend. My “Ja puppy”. My “Jake”.   May you rest in peace with the angels, and may you ache no more. I Love You.
January 16, 2000- July 11, 2013

January 16, 2000- July 11, 2013

January 16, 2000- July 11, 2013