Our dear sweet Violet left this world on Sunday afternoon. She was eighteen years old this summer. We'd gotten her when she was a tiny kitten. She used to sit on my shoulder, like a little bird. She'd wake me up by sitting on my heart, and staring at me. Our sweet, sweet friend. The angel of our house, for all of these years.
This morning Clover Meadow and the Bee and I were sitting out on the stairs near where we buried Violet by the picket fence. It was quiet and beautiful, just the sound of birdsong and breeze. The light filtered softly through the green trees. We sat out there for a long time, just watching. When I stood up to go I looked down and saw the one little flower, all by itself. I looked around for others, though they are long out of season, but there was just this one little one.
Little prayers for her. Such a good girl. Dear lovely ever-sweet friend. xoxo
