Love and lessons

This is a tale of a cat and a lesson that God taught me through his death.
His name was Furball (aka Geezer) and he was 20 years old. One of the few cats I actually planned to get as a kitten around 8 weeks old. He was with me for all of his years. Here are a few pictures of him....

These were taken almost 4 years ago. This next pic is one of Furball sleeping on my husband. He would balance up there for quite awhile.

He was getting pretty thin over the last year or two but always had lots of energy and practically ate us out of house and home!! His kidneys were getting weaker though and one day during the week of Thanksgiving this past year-he started becoming disinterested in food. In about two days he just stopped eating altogether. He would just look at me as if to say...I want to eat but I just cannot and walk away. This was pretty painful for me because I knew there was nothing further I could do for him and that his death would not be far away. Here are two pictures of him two days before he died....

He had gone deaf some years ago but I talked to him a lot and told him that it was okay to stop fighting. I even told him how much I loved him and told God how thankful I was for all the years He allowed this creature of his to be with us.That night I awoke to hearing Furball retching loudly. I got up to go comfort him as best I could. The retching just knocked him over and he just wanted to walk around. I ended up on my face on the floor sobbing my heart out and asking God to please end this and just allow Furball to die now.

God came to me in the midst of my pain and reminded me that it really was in his control and when the time was that Furball should die-God would do that-not me. God reassured me that He was with me and that He certainly knew about this small creature of his after all-He has put the breath of life in him and that breath would return to God. My task was to see my old guy through this and allow God his work. That was Thanksgiving night (Thursday) and Furball died the following Saturday morning. He knew he was loved till the end and it was a peaceful ending.
He is buried in a spot where I intend to plant a bunch of catnip this spring in his memory.
God gave me great peace that night when He came and spoke softly to me. I had never been able to accept my pets dying in the past-I have mourned for weeks on end. This time was different and God brought me to a place of better understanding of all He does and how little I really can do except to trust and obey Him.
God used one, old, tired kitty to teach me more of Himself and I find myself grateful even in the midst of the pain. I have lots of happy memories to make me smile.