We experienced a sore tragedy on our farm yesterday; I'm sorry to report that our favorite barn cat Pickles got hit by a car.
He was the first animal we got after moving to the farm. He was a great hunter and would often leave "gifts" for Paul in bucket of his tractor.
Pickles liked to sneak into visitors' cars. I had to warn anyone leaving to check their car for a gray furry cat. When the cable internet guys were here Pickles took a rest on top of the roof of their van. While backing up Paul had to flag them down to rescue Pickles.
Most memorable was catching him walk the barn roof over 25 feet from the ground.
He was a faithful hunter and faithfully affectionate to any child passing by.
The kids liked to sneak him in their beds at night but he was kind of a mangey cat and now I'm sorry for all the times I chased him out of the house.
After Paul had come in and announced the discovery I was pig piled by 5 wailing children. I too was crying.
The younger ones didn't take it as hard. George said to me, "it's okay Mommy, you can sing a song and he will be alive again".
The kids gave him their last pets and we offered a proper burial.
We had plans for a full day of work but it seemed we were all a bit lost from the loss. We sang some hymns and Paul reminded us all of the eternal nature of our spirits, even that of animals.
Feeling grateful for the way this loving creature touched our lives.
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