We miss you Little Hedge Fund

This past weekend was a sad occasion for our little family. Satu's sweet and lively kitty Noodle succumbed to a sudden illness and left this world.

Noodle was a little stray scrappy kitten when Satu rescued her from certain dehydration seven years ago. She joined Satu's family before I did by climbing up onto Satu's lap and pronouncing herself at home. She had a cozy little place there her whole life after that.

The hardest part about loving anyone is that to truely do it, you have to give up protecting your tender heart. You can never know how much time you will have to love someone or if you will be loved in return. If you are loved, it is the most precious gift in the world, but it comes without any guarantees. I think that to love and be loved by an animal is one of the most meaningful connections people can make in life. It is a bond you make without negotiation and it comes without any expectations or strings attached.

We both loved that little cat. For the past year she began to take on the shaggy quality of a kid's favorite teddy bear. Her fur was licked away in spots and one of her eyes didn't work at all, but she didn't throttle back on life. She still attacked the bed sheets and caught little rodents in the basement. When she curled up to sleep with you, it made you feel special. She liked to chase Satu around the house and leap up into doorways. When she ran down the hallway, it sounded like that little six and a half pound cat had a thousand feet.

I have a hard time imagining a heaven usually, but I can easily imagine one for her. The door would always be open to a lush green yard where Noodle could go roll around in the grass. Little chipmunks and birds would be everywhere. Fresh sheets would always be hovering just above the bed ready to fall as she runs wide legged beneath them . The windows would always be open and the plants could be up-rooted or pissed on at her leasure. Most importantly, God's hand, red from being kissed by Noodle's rough tounge would rest gently on her when she naps in His lap purring.

We love you and miss you little Noodle Kaboodle,
aka Little Hedge Fund,
aka Kaboods,
aka Five and Dime
You brought us so much laughter and love.

Dogs and Small Children

     Nothing wakes a person up from a dead sleep faster than the sound of a dog about to barf on the carpet. This is how Satu and I awoke a couple of weeks ago at four in the morning. After I let Sassy outside and then back in, I gave her some pats and tried to reassure her with the only words that I am positive she understands. "You are a good girl Sassy. I love you."  Neither of us were able to go back to sleep once Sassy had setteled down though because the noises coming from her stomach sounded like someone slowly shaking a gallon of milk back and forth. The gurgeling sounds were punctuated with terrible dog farts that made me feel sorry for us all.
     "Why don't you get Sassy a little piece of bread to see if it will calm her stomach?" Satu said. This seemed like an excellent idea, so I went to the kitchen and broke off a piece about the size of my palm. I brought it over to Sassy who seemed excited to be getting a treat, and put it between her two front paws. Then I bannished Gimmie from the room so he wouldn't steal her bread. Sassy wagged her tail and put her face down beside the bread. "No, no girl, you have to break it into smaller pieces." Satu said as I was climbing back into bed. I climbed back out of bed and broke the bread into three little pieces for her. I patted her on the head again and told her I love her.
     As soon as I had snuggled in next to Satu, I heard a low, impossibly long growl. Gimmie had returned and was really jealous of Sassy's treat. I was not going to have a showdown over bread at 4:30 am, so I grabbed the little one up by the scruff and threw him outside. He acted like I was killing him and continued to whine and cry at the back door as Sassy began the most pitiful ritual I have ever seen in my life. She stood up and tried to bury her little bread chunks in the dog bed. She scraped at the flat surface a few times making no impact at all and then gently placed her treat on top of the spot she had scraped. She tried this a few times and looked at me helplessly like she couldn't understand why the bread was still on top of the cushin. This was both sad and adorable to me because it gave me some insight into how instinct works without the need for understanding or thought.
     Satu got up and went over to Sassy. She put both her gentle hands on the dog, which I know from experience can make you feel instantly taken care of and loved. Sassy settled into the bed and let Satu press on her. Then Satu picked up a little piece of bread and said sweetly "Sassy, do you want this? Do you want a cookie?" Yes, she did want that. Satu picked off a little tiny piece and pretended to eat it while Sassy watched. She made smacking sound and acted like it was so delicious she couldn't believe it. I thought to myself, that will never work, but it did. When she offered it to her, Sassy took the little piece of bread and chewed it up. Satu kept up this little game until all the bread was gone and the gurgeling noises in my dog were quieting down. Sassy settled down to sleep and Satu came to snuggle in next to me.
    "I can't believe you can do that." I said. " How did you know that would work?"
     "That always works with dogs and small children." Satu answered like it was common knowledge.
"They all just want what you have. It works every time."
These are the kind of things that Satu does all the time that make me understand just how soft and sweet she is on the inside. Her compassion comes from a place of real understanding about people, dogs, cats, frogs, bugs, rats, you name it. I bet she would find a way to help just about any poor little creature that showed up in her life. We are all really lucky to be among the creatures in her care.