Last week I wrote about the health crisis of Little Bit, our 16-year-old dog. That’s 112 human years. We had discovered him in distress on Saturday. He appeared to have suffered a stroke. He couldn’t walk and couldn’t eat. But we were buoyed up by a steady recovery of the ability to walk as the day wore on. Then, he made slow but obvious progress day after day. He drank water but had no appetite for food. Finally the end came on Valentine’s Day morning. Apparently his heart just stopped. He showed no obvious signs of pain during those last days and nights.

     I told last week about the surprising behavior of Liberty, our cat, who sensed Little Bit’s distress and who fretted over him. This surprised us because he had sometimes annoyed her terribly. He chased her endlessly. And he kept her off his turf. Now, in his time of extremity, her emotions were obviously on edge. We observed her grooming him. She caressed him with her paws. She was restless when she could not see him. She paced the yard, meowing constantly. As I dug a grave for him in the sunny spot where he loved to lie in the mornings, she sat a few feet away and watched until I finished digging. Then she followed me toward the house meowing and rubbing against the legs of the picnic table and my own leg. She seemed to yearn for some kind, any kind, of touch. She is the same age as Little Bit. They grew up together. We never had even an inkling that they cared for each other.

     Moments later, I carried Little Bit in my arms to the grave. I had wrapped him in a little red blanket given him by our daughter Susannah. He spent his last living days and nights at the foot of her bed, and upon that familiar blanket he had died. Liberty followed and sat at arm’s length to watch as I buried him in a little patch of daffodils and daylilies. I returned to the house, but watched from a window as she continued to sit motionless. After several minutes, she stood and walked over to the mound and sat again. Eventually she disappeared from view. Several times later in the day she repeated the pattern.

     I have learned a lot from these family pets. I have learned that there was a far more complex relationship between these little animals than I had imagined. As for Liberty, the cat, I now know she was far more emotional than she had ever revealed before. She has always lived up to her name. She lives outside. She is free and guards her liberty with determination. She has always been stoic and a loner, I thought. Now, I have discovered in her a quality of personality that I have not seen in all these years. And Little Bit who was always a little bundle of bluster, full of bark but almost no bite must have loved not only me but her also. I had thought him unkind to her because he pestered her so. Perhaps she learned over time that he was mostly a tease.

     This experience leaves me with the strengthened conclusion that all of God’s creation is precious and to be treasured by good stewards. I’ve always known this, of course. But, I’m stirred to be more attentive to this truth because of these two furry, senior citizens of the animal kingdom. You who have pets understand how we feel. You who don’t have pets are missing some of God’s blessings. So we at our house say, adopt a pet to learn from and to share love.

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