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Our cat Sketch died this morning. He was about sixteen years old. This time, the grief was immediate and open, so much more open. All of the love came out.
I believe this is because animals love fully and openly, unconditionally. They don’t hold anything back. They simply love us. Because I loved Sketch the same way he loved us, I can mourn more fully his passing.
Probably everybody says this about their animals, but Sketch truly was a sweet and gentle soul. He was quiet and shy. He loved Sandy, who got him and Sister when they were just s few weeks old, more than anything. His complete devotion and trust with Sandy was a beautiful thing to witness. Maybe it was because she has a matching sweetness of spirit. But I never saw such a strong bond and connection between human and animal as between those two. Sketch would let Sandy do anything to him, brush him, clip his nails, clean open wounds, anything, without a sound. He just looked at her with so much love and trust.
Only in the past year or so did Sketch finally start to sit in my lap for petting and attention. I was worried about intruding upon the special relationship he had with Sandy. But he came to love me as a second to her, even nursing on my shirt sometimes like he did with Sandy.
Sketch was a big boy, a Maine Coon, and he looked regal as any lion. He was our sweet, sweet boy. That loving, gentle soul was loved as no other animal ever was. Sketch truly led a protected and a wonderful life. I can get out all my grief, and mourn him, and remember that trusting, loving soul certainly received all the love and care we poor humans can give.