All the people that do animal rescue. There are tons of them in all sorts of cities and towns. Crem's neighbor fosters dogs for Rover Rescue Rover Rescue, my dear friend Rose who runs The Critter Corral a guinea pig rescue, and all the others that give their time, talents, and energies to those that have no voices.
I'm sure most of you are familiar with The Rainbow Bridge. It's the place where animals that have died go and hang out and wait for their owners, so they can cross together into heaven. Somwhere along the way I ran across this interesting twist on the tale ...
The young pup and the older dog lay on shaded sweet grass watching the reunions. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, sometimes a whole family would approach The Rainbow Bridge, be greeted by their loving pets, and cross the Bridge together.The young pup playfully nipped at the older one. "Look! Something wonderful is happening!" The older dog stood up and barked, "Quickly! Get over to the path!""But that's not my owner," whined the pup, but he did as he was told. Thousands of pets surged forward as a figure in white walked on the path toward the Bridge. As the glowing figure passed each animal, that animal bowed its head in love and respect. The figure finally approached the Bridge and was met by a menagerie of joyous animals. Together, they all walked over the Bridge and disappeared. The young pup was still in awe. "Was that an angel?" He whispered. "No son," the older dog replied, "that was more than an angel... That was a person who worked rescue."
When I think about the Rainbow Bridge, at least from the perspective of a cat, I think about a song by Garrison Keillor. I can't find the lyrics online (amazing) so let's see what I can remember
On an afternoon in the month of June
a wistful cat sat sighing
For her owners were not good to her,
a cousin of the lion.
On her plate was glued some dried up food
she cared not to examine
and as she wept she sat and dreamt
of the land of milk & salmon
Oh there's fresh catfish in a china dish
and the cream flows from a fountain
On the high plateau where the catnip grows
out in the catskill mountains
Out in the catskill mountains
fresh tuna just appears
and people beg you for the chance
to scratch behind your ears
A cat can lie flat on its back and never be ambitious
and the grass is sweet beneath your feet
and the houseplants are delicious
Out in the catskill mountains
the land of the big feedtrough
the couches are all comfortable and
no one kicks you off
the dogs are taught to
honor cats and beautiful and holy
and the birds are found right on the ground
and the mice run very slowly
(Hmmm I guess this can go under gratitude -- but also dreams because that to me sounds like what a cat would dream of)
