Everyone seemed to like hearing about Pepper last week, so I’m not using one of the promopts this week, so we can talk more about her.
Pepper was just a happy cat. She didn’t cause trouble, didn’t get in fights, used the box, and gave Mary and me attention whenever she had a chance. She was very soft to the touch, a little bushy perhaps. Even when she got past ten years old, she still had enough kitten in her that she was fun to have around.
We took in a stray cat who was pregnant, and she had five kittens. When we first let the kittens venture out of the back bedroom, Pepper saw Tuffy, a muted calico, and "adopted" her. She didn’t try and take her from Judy, she was more like a babysitter or a nanny. Pepper was only a couple of years old at the time, and it was cute seeing the two of them together.
She disappeared for several days and, being the observant pet parents that we were, we didn’t notice. In our defense, we were a multiple-cat household (the actual number is a military secret). I’m sure you’ve heard of parents with a lot of kids who leave one of them at a rest area, and no one realizes it for about ten miles. It was kind of like that. We were having work done on one of the bathrooms, which included putting in new tile. That involved taking the old tile out, exposing part of the "skeleton" of the house. At some point, Pepper decided she’d have a little adventure and spent several days crawling through the bowels of the house, eventually popping her head out of an opening in the ceiling.
She was a great comfort to me while I was recuperating from my stroke. I was staying in a room we had set up in the basement (the same handymen did the work), and every day she would run down there and sit with me. She was the only member of the gang who did so.
Not long after I had my stroke, Pepper started having respiratory issues, kind of like asthma. We took her to a respiratory specialist and we got a bronchodilator (a pill, not a machine) for her. She’d do fine for a while, then she’d start having more issues, and it was back to the vet…
Finally, one cloudy morning, she was having severe problems. Mary took her and rushed to the vet. And a funny thing happened: a minute or so after Mary left, the clouds cleared up and the sun was shining brightly. When Mary got home, she let me know that Pepper had died while she was on her way to the vet. I figured out that the time Pepper died was about the same time it cleared up and got sunny.
Did Pepper have anything to do with that? Was the joy at the Rainbow Bridge so great that it cleared up the clouds?
You can’t convince me otherwise…