Pugie would never be the cat that Blondie was but I would love Pugie just the same. Pugie came to our house when I was about ten years old. He camped out at our back door in all of his black and white splendor, meowing loudly until I would go to the screen door. Then he would rub up against the door and begin to purr. Mother was an old softy when it came to cats so she gave in and allowed Pugie to become a member of our family, although I’m not altogether sure my Daddy approved.
Pugie wasn’t as good as Blondie to allow me to dress him up. I think it was a guy thing with him. He didn’t want to wear any silly doll dress and certainly not a bonnet.
Pugie was my blanket at night. He loved to sneak up under my covers after I was in bed. He would find a loose edge at the bottom of the bed and using his nose to pull the cover back, he would crawl under the covers and work his way up to the top and lie down beside me, purring and falling fast asleep. If it was a particularly hot night, Pugie would drape himself up around the top of my head and sleep very comfortably on my pillow until morning.
As a teenager, I once again acquired a cat. This one from one of my girlfriends, who lived on a farm, and always had cats in the barn. I spent the weekend with her and one little black kitten, the runt of the liter, caught my eye.
“We’ve never been able to touch him,” my friend said,” I don’t know whether you can or not.”
By the time the weekend was over, Blackie and I had become very good friends and I happily took him home with me. Blackie and I got along very, very well. He, too, liked to sleep on my bed. He loved all of my friends who would come to our home except for John, that is. When John and I began dating, Blackie’s wonderful disposition changed. He was fine as long as John wasn’t setting beside me on the couch. But, the minute John sat down, Blackie was up behind him biting his ears. Needless to say, when we married, Blackie wasn’t part of the marriage agreement and he continued to live at home with my Mother and Daddy.
Living on the highway was a disadvantage for animals. Many of my pets met their demise on that highway and the corner of our backyard became their resting place. For years, when my Mother was living I would visit her and, we would walk among her flowers. Before I would leave, I would always walk to the southwest corner of her yard; the place where my beloved pets lay.
What a special memories a pet brings to childhood. I don’t begin to know where our pets are. I don’t believe they have souls but I don’t know if there is a special place in Heaven for them or not. Only God knows and I trust God to prepare for us in Heaven the things that will make it paradise. If this includes our beloved pets, then it will be all the more wonderful.
“That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.” Romans 8:18-21 The Message
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