I could barely see anything through the stinging haze of my tears, as I slid into the passenger seat of my vehicle. The radio turned on as the engine started, and I didn’t think it was possible to cry any harder than I already was. Slaughter’s “Fly to the Angels” filled my ears, and I switched it off with a trembling hand. How apropos. Now sitting in the shadow of my vet’s office, only moments before, I sent my beloved cat Ozzy to fly to the angels.
We lost our family heirloom today. It wasn’t made of precious metal or fine material. It wasn’t misplaced or stolen. It was made of blood and bone and simply passed away. We often joked that our 32-year-old pet turtle would outlive us all, but sadly it was not to be. He came into our lives the size of a quarter so many years ago, when my brother plucked him from a log. He left us the size of a DVD case, no doubt from all the good care he received. Our family heirloom had no monetary value, but the love and joy he gave us during our time together was priceless. I’m sure there is a place at the Rainbow Bridge where we will be reunited with our aquatic friends. Until then Freddy, remember how much you were loved.