The Mr. sent me this photo the other day . . .
It had popped up in his Facebook memories from April 25, 2017.
Seeing this picture pop up in the Mr.’s memories brought back all of the fur baby love and angst of that season we were about to walk through.
That day, we had no idea that in less than three months, that big-butted white-haired fur baby would be gone.
2017 was a hard year for us. The Mr. had gotten deathly ill in January, and I’d started physical therapy to learn how to walk again after breaking my ankle that past November.
He was supposed to have a very complicated, multi-organ surgery at the Mayo Clinic that June.
God intervened and healed the Mr. unexpectedly and miraculously, and when we returned home, without having the surgery, Molly’s health deteriorated rapidly. We lost her a few short weeks later in the early hours of July 5.
Then, two summers later, we lost our beloved Pele after a short illness that the vet was never able to figure out. Our hearts were b-r-o-k-e-n.
The crew that once numbered four was down to one.
Gambit is the only one left now. To say that we treasure every second with him would be an understatement.
He rules our house, and we don’t mind one single bit.
He’s grumpy and wants what he wants, and we don’t mind at all.
I always call him our mid-life crisis baby because he came to us just as Rooster was heading off to college.
God certainly knew what He was doing. 💙
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