A week before Brutus passed away, I watched Toto (the neighbors dog) get hit by a truck in the road. I’ve grown attached to the little feller, even though he’s not my own, he thinks he is… he enjoys spending time with us much more than he does his “owners”. They were gone when he got hit, so we went and carried him from the road, and took him to our house, to take care of him until they came home. Several hours later they pulled in the driveway and I had to tell him their dog had been hit. They took him away and said “I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner” o.O  Later that night, I heard a gun shot. A single gun shot that chilled me to the bone. I was sooo afraid they had taken his life. 

A week later, we go outside, with heavy hearts, to bury our beloved kitty. And what do I see, running wide open towards us? Toto! We hadn’t seen him since he’d been hit. He was FINE, and SO happy to see us. 

He watched as I arranged leaves and flowers for Brutus. Once it came time to put Brutus in his “coffin”, Toto stood close by, whimpering and crying. It was like he understood, and was sad. 

It was a terribly hard time for me, seeing Toto, and knowing he’s okay was so uplifting. It was just what I needed. <3