Tuesday, March 13, 2012

My Cat Blackie

Image courtesy Photobucket.com

My dad found a beautiful black cat down at the railroad yard where he worked, and when he brought her home, he told me that she was mine. We named her Blackie to fit her color.

As an eight year old, I loved that sweet cat, and how she could purr and sing away the blues when I was sad.

One day my brother Allen was holding her, and she was purring very loudly. My Aunt asked Allen, what is she singing, and he answered, “She is singing, Yes Jesus Loves me.”

Eventually Blackie had a litter of kittens. Most of them were black and one was a grey and white stripped alley cat mixed color.

Because on Fridays, at my school, we had a time for “Show and Tell,” my mother helped me bring the kittens in a cardboard box to my class room. The kitten’s eyes were opened and they were so cute, that all the children wanted to hold one.

“Can I keep one?” several asked. My mother seemed very happy over those words. “Ask your parents, and let Hazel know, and we will see that you get a pretty one,” My mother told my classmates.

The details fade away, but every one of those kittens found a good home, and my parents were very pleased as well.

As it happens to animals, one day Blackie got very sick. My Dad told me that she had distemper, and she was not long for this world. He also told me that she was suffering, and that the kindest thing we could do for her would be to send her to cat heaven.

There was no pleading from me, because I could see her pain. Dad had already purchased a can of chloroform, and I watched as he poured it onto a towel and placed Blackie, and the soaked towel under an upside down galvanized wash tub.

Dad sat with me on the back porch steps and we both cried because we equally loved that black cat.

After enough time had passed, Dad began to dig a large and deep hole at the rear of our yard. Then he picked up my limp cat, wrapped her in the saturated towel and put her and everything into the hole and covered it over with dirt. On top he placed some big rocks and that was her grave.

It is a sad time when we loose a pet whether it is a cat, dog, rabbit, fish or maybe a bird.

Even sadder still is it when we have to say “Good Bye” to our loved ones.

If our loved ones have received Jesus, then we know we will miss them, but it is not, “Good Bye,” It is only “Fare Well, and See you Later.”

This post is Linking up with Tracy at Winsome Wednesday
And with Jennifer at: God-Bumps and God-Incidences

Join us on Tuesdays for the new Blog Party “Tell Me A True Story”
at:  http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/


  1. Beautifully sorrowful.

    Your father was wise to mourn with you, so you could learn of death and mourning.

    Thanks for sharing!

  2. Oh Hazel... You have such a gift for story. And when I read about your Blackie "singing" Jesus Loves Me, all I could think about was the way that all creation has a way of singing God's praises, so maybe it's true??? Glad you linked again.

  3. What a precious story...thank you so much for sharing it with us.


  4. I'm visiting from Jennifer's blog. I enjoyed reading about Blackie. How nice to have an animal that you loved and someone to share your sorrow with.

  5. Your heart is so closely related to mine, it feels like we we're cut from the same mold. I think God allows us, the blessed ones, or ordered by God ones, to live through the suffering of our beloved animals death, in a small way to prepare us for the difficult task of seeing our family members pass in the coming future.

    I remember my mom keeping me out of school to bury our all white, deaf, blue eyed, tom cat; Bugs... although only first or second grade, my mom watched while I buried our family pet... My tears fell in the grave I dug as my mom's tears rolled down her face... Mine were for my mom....

  6. Hi Hazel - our pets certainly climb into our hearts. I had to take one of my labradors in to the vet this morning for a growth to be removed and I'm missing you and praying for her! How much more our love for one another and God's love for us
    Great post, God bless

  7. I have a love for cats... but can't have them any more. I travel too often and Dave's allergy keeps him from being the "touching" helper. Your dad was a blessing, I'm sure.

    When it comes time to see my parents and many others in heaven, there are many times I've felt that I can hardly wait! What a blessing that will be that we can hardly imagine.


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