We Buried Them in the Fall of the Year

We Buried Them in the Fall of the Year

I have always loved the fall. It is filled with the last beautiful, golden days before the long cold winter sets in. The Harvest is in, and the world seems to be running down. The days grow shorter and become colder. As beautiful as fall is, it leaves me feeling a bit sad.

It was just such a beautiful, melancholy day. The kind you only get in Southern California when the Santa Ana winds blow. The sky was an endless deep blue, and I watched a late butterfly flit among the flowers as I sat on the rocks in the garden soaking up the sun. Ah, how good it felt on my sleek black fur.

I was just drifting off to sleep when mewmie came out. Today we would be having the memorial service for my brofurs Tiger M and Tommy Otto, and my dear little sisfur Unutzi.

Mewmie lit candles and burned sage and we sat and chanted as mewmie dug the grave. Then she carefully laid my siblings down, holding each one and saying goodbye for the last time. We all walked around the garden gathering flowers to place in the grave. Then mewmie covered them over, and laid bricks on top to mark the spot.

At last all was done, and mewmie sat on the ground and held each of us in turn, as the day came to a close. I looked one last time at the beautiful blue sky, and the butterfly in the flowers. Then I looked beyond them to a land faraway across the Rainbow Bridge.

There I saw Tiger and Tommy and little Unutzi playing in the fields of heaven with my friends and siblings who were already there. Tiger turned and waved a paw, then, with a smile on his furry face he faded away.

It was a beautiful fall day. The kind you only get at that time of the year. It seemed like a perfect and fitting day for what we had to do. I wrote in my journal ‘we buried them in the fall of the year.’

BugBug
October 2005
Catuary By The Sea