Angel From the East Side Cat Arrives at Rainbow Bridge

I know why humans don't like to go to the funerals for people who are not their family members.  It is hard to go to a service where you don't know the people, where you have to introduce yourself, and express sorrow over a passing when you know the pain you feel is a fraction of what the person you are speaking with is experiencing.

That is what it is like when we dogs go to greet a cat who is arriving at the Bridge and is not a member of our family. We know all the dogs who cross and the angels who preceded them, but with cats, we might only be familiar with the arriving angel.  We can't help but feel like interlopers.  

Most of the cats I know come from the blogging world.  Even online pups and kitties are separated into separate groups as if it was God's plan.  It is only in the independent world of blogging where the lines begin to cross, and we visit one another's pages.  It still took me a long time to befriend cats in Blogville, but now I visit their pages every day and enjoy their antics. 

This weekend our friend Angel from the East Side Cats ran out of heartbeats, and her parents had to restore her to her original settings and send her to the Bridge, where she will be happy and whole again.  Cotton, who is my counterpart at District Four cats division, sent me an alert from her I-Paw, informing me of Angel's imminent arrival.

We angels are much like you humans.  When we learn of a passing, we try to figure ways of not going to the service until we accept that we must attend.  At the time of Angel's arrival, I put on my musher's wax to protect my paws, grabbed my walking stick, and headed towards Kittyspace, where Angel will stay while waiting for her parents.

When a new soul passes across the Bridge at Doggyspace, her angel friends are anxiously zooming up and down hills, laughing, and barking loudly.  Cats are much more reserved. As they waited for Angel's arrival, some were standing at attention, others were lying in the grass, and a few seemed to be sleeping.  I wondered if it is because cats don't love as much as dogs.

Then I saw Angel cross the Bridge, and all the cats ran to her.  They made a big circle around her and began purring and licking.  It was quieter and refined than one of our greetings, but I liked it. Their welcoming was simple and moving.  Sometimes I think we dogs are too loud for our good.   

I made my way into the group of cats, and introduced myself to Angel, told her that I was very sorry that she had crossed the Bridge and that she had lots of friends on the doggy side who were available if she needed help adjusting to life at the Bridge or learning how to visit her family.  She gave me a lick of thanks and invited me to her welcoming dinner.

It was a marvelous time, even if there was a bit too much fish.  I did get a little tipsy on the catnip. We dogs have to develop an equivalent.  The celebration was more reserved than the doggy dinners. There was no howling, no counter surfing, no bacon. After a few hours, I began to miss all the craziness of our festivities.

I excused myself, hugged Angel, and walked back home.   It was good to travel and see other customs, but it is nice to get home back to the noise, drool, and bacon.

I know Angels' mom is grieving again. She has done it lots of times before and will come through with the help of her family, friends, and angels.  All our moms and dads do.

I.promised Angel, I would spend more time at Kittyspace.  It will be good for me to expand my horizons. We could all benefit from seeing how the other half lives.