I hope you are right, Margaret; but the best thing is to give them a good life in the here and now and treat them right. Years ago I wrote a poem for another favourite cat a beautiful ginger tommy, who died 1/2 a year after my husband died, had taken rat bait, I think - even let me know he wasn't well the night before, but I was working and busy; just patted him as usual and then he disappeared until a neighbour pointed out where he had seen a dead cat. I found him and buried him in a silk shawl under the olive tree my husband had planted and loved.
Charlie, the female Kerry Blue, also got a poem. My neighbour on the street corner, helped me make the final decision - I had had a crying fit there and then in his shed with 3 people watching and consoling me - they all knew Charlie as I used to take her for walks past their place and often chatted; later, the shed-owners wife brought me an incense holder as a present - I was overwhelmed - No more animals for me - saying good-bye is terrible. The standout though on observing animals is, how tough they are; I remember one time when Charlie had yet again had another operation to cut out more than 20 skin tumors and I picked her up in a car which badly needed a service. Coming into my hilly territory the car suddenly stopped - I was just able to push it off-road a little and had to take my freshly operated dog and myself on a long walk home. Charlie just delighted on being 'out' and about and enjoyed every minute of this walk, even though she was still seeping blood from several wounds - I couldn't get over that. Taurisk
