Part 2- The Power of Church (a cat’s tale)

Smarty pants

We named Church after the cat in Pet Cemetery.  Remember the nice sweet cat that dies, get’s buried in a pet cemetery only to come back mean and viscous.  That was Church, one minute sweet and nice, the next minute mean and viscous.

Church was our bit our hope in a year that brought numerous changes and mountains of grief.  When my daughter was 12, I left her step dad.  In that year we moved 3 times, had to find homes for two dogs (pets I had with my ex), I started a new relationship, she started middle school, I started grad school and my dad died, ending a four year feud with my sister.  On top of this, my daughter started puberty.

We were a mess of emotions.  Joy, anger, depression, despair, grief, and happiness.  We were all over the place.  My daughter needed stability.  She needed hope.  That’s when we got Church.  He was her cat.  He was her non judgmental rock.  He was there for her, held her, comforted her when no one else could.  He never judged her when she cut herself or tried to commit suicide.  No, he was just there for her, always.

Church will forever have my respect and gratitude.  Church was there for my daughter, when she needed someone.

Church thank you for your years of love and support.  For everything you did for my daughter.  And thank you for those moments when you chased me across the living room, sending me scream up onto the couch.


4 comments on “Part 2- The Power of Church (a cat’s tale)

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