Wings

Anything is possible in Heaven, especially across the Rainbow Bridge, where animals are reunited with their housemates or families that have gone before them. 

Patches passing was unexpected.  Whatever took her had been building over a day or two, though with rabbits it's nearly impossible to know until it's almost or in fact too late.

A sound I never want to hear again came from somewhere in the room I just happened to be present and standing in.  At first I had no idea where the sound was coming from.  I looked down to see her roll over convulsing.  I couldn't revive her.  CPR had worked on a kitten before.  Not this time. 

Sunday.  Places nearby, though no vet present, or even a stethoscope.  By the time an open office was reached it was confirmed she was gone.  She was taken quickly in the towel I had cradled her in the entire way searching for someone with a stethoscope that could possibly resuscitate her.  I had apologized and spoken to her in my lap the entire drive to now four places.  I couldn't bear to go back into where they couldn't get her back to say 'goodbye'.  I asked the assistant who was so kind to promise to give her a last hug for me.  She promised. 

I buried Charlie at the beach, with markers the locals added to over time, unaware they were to honor a beloved pet who had saved a child's life.  Patches would be in a smaller box: her ashes, for her original owner, the same child, now a legal adult.

I was in between obligations that day.  The window of time between allowed for getting her to a place that could only confirm she was gone.

The first pet that saved my son's life passed two years ago in the same month.  She tried to 'say goodbye' when I was in denial as well, even though her illness was known and couldn't be treated.  An hour and a half later she was gone.  I didn't take it well: why I changed majors from vet school to fine arts.  I don't do well with death.

Patches leaves her mate, a year older and not as energetic as earlier days.  The cats lounge closer as if to comfort him.  At least one was doing the same near Patches lately though I'd no clue anything was wrong.  She wasn't picked up daily, or maybe I would have noticed the hardness in her midsection.  Or maybe it happened the same day she screamed.  It keeps running like a reel repeatedly in my head.

Not unlike the death of the first and second small mammals we've had, mourning is only slightly less time than losing a human family member.

She had an actual perfectly mirrored wing pattern on her back exactly where wings would be, if rabbits had them. 

I attended church last night, and the tears came back.  When two or more are gathered, the presence of Spirit is felt.  I saw Patches in His lap; He was welcoming her.  After He hugged her, He stroked her back and her 'wings' became elevated and three dimensional.  She left his lap to join her friends that had gone before her by flying down to them. 

'Binky' is the word for a rabbit jumping up in joy and contentment, which hadn't been seen here with Patches or her 'husbun' for awhile, due to their present ages.  'Popcorn' means the same thing, for a guinea pig.  All were respectively 'binkying' and 'popcorning'.  Charlie could jump three times her height standing up when she was young.  Patches and Charlie took turns to see who could go highest, with Smandie looking on, smiling and 'popcorning' herself.  Patches can go higher now, though there was no reason in the joy of the moment, being with her friends. 

1 Corinthians 2:9 : God can put wings on any animal he chooses.  When Patches crossed the rainbow bridge and met Him after her 'family' reunification, her wings became real.  Lots to do here, though am looking forward to seeing them, very much.  Grateful for the comfort of Spirit...