I stood in the warmth of my home early this morning, and watched as Sammy ate his breakfast out on my deck.
Although the great February Portland snowstorm didn’t happen, I could tell Sammy was still happy for a break from the cold in his heated home.
After eating, he stood as close as he could to the lamp, soaking up as much heat as possible before heading up the hill, under the fence, and off to wherever he goes when he leaves my yard.
There is something magical about a paw print left by a dear friend.
I popped outside to take this photo of Sammy's paw prints, a precious gift from this sweet little boy whose been coming to my yard for almost 8 years.
Not being able to hold him is something I have to live with, but on these cold, wet days I feel that loss even more.
Over the years I’ve spoken to many women whose children, like mine, have all been furry. Perhaps the deep desire to hold Sammy is part of my maternal need to comfort, and nurture, this little creature. He seems so alone to me.
Inside my home it’s warm and dry. There are many soft places to curl up and nap. The food bowls are never empty. And someone wants very much to hold him close and tell him he'll never be cold again.
Perhaps one day…
Publishing magical books for animal lovers