NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I wrote this story to help me deal with
the grief of losing both of my husband's beloved parents, a
beautiful dog and a courageous cat, all within a 5-month period a
year ago. I needed to explore death and I used the tunnel world
as a way to do that. In this story, Catherine has been dead for
several years. If you choose to read the story, I hope by the
end you will see that this story is not about Catherine's death
specifically, but about what any loss can teach us, albeit the
hard way.
NOTE FROM BEASTFAN: Have a box of tissues handy....
****************************************************
THE UNEXPECTED GIFT
by Linda C. Moore
PART ONE
"Father...Vincent...someone HELP!"
Vincent heard Mouse's voice before he physically arrived in the
main council area. Vincent and Father were looking over drawings
of a part of the tunnel that was under repair. Two-year old
Jacob was happily creating some abstract structure on the floor
from wooden blocks Cullen had made for him. All three of them
looked up to see Mouse bounding down the stairs with Arthur, his
pet raccoon, wrapped in a blood-stained blanket in his arms.
"Arthur's hurt. Father fix, right?" Mouse's voice was
surprisingly calm when he finally found Father. Father took
Arthur from Mouse and laid him gently on the large table.
"Father, how is he?" Vincent asked. Father did not answer
immediately but began to examine Arthur. Vincent knew from the
look on Father's face that the news was not good.
"Well, the poor creature's grown so large I can't find a pulse,"
Father whispered. "I suspect it won't be a very strong one when
I do find it. I'm feeling an open wound on his underbelly and
you can see there's bleeding through his nose which indicates
there's some internal bleeding as well."
"Mouse, what happened?" Vincent turned and asked quietly as
Father continued his examination.
"Arthur didn't come home last night...went uptop...likes taking,
you know, like Mouse. Woke up, no Arthur. Went to look for him.
Found him on the floor in a secret tunnel. Scared me, but Father
will fix, right Vincent?" When Mouse turned to him, Vincent
perceived that Mouse was searching his face for what he wanted to
see: reassurance that all would be set right.
After years of studying Father's expressions and behaviors,
Vincent knew that the next words out of Father's mouth would not
convey good news. Father hesitated for a moment and said,
"Mouse...uh...I don't know how to tell you this but Arthur is
gravely ill. It looks as if a dog got hold of him. He's
bleeding under his belly and inside. I'm afraid he is going to
die and there isn't anything I can do." Father's voice trembled.
Despite the frustrations of dealing with Mouse at times, Father
loved him dearly.
There was silence. Vincent briefly put his head down, collecting
himself, then moved over to Mouse and put his arms around him.
"We all know how much Arthur has meant to you."
Mouse pulled away from Vincent's protective embrace and shouted,
"Father fixes everybody....Arthur can't die! Get medicine above,
right?" He became more agitated as Father and Vincent looked on
helplessly.
As Vincent watched, Father attempted to console Mouse using his
gentlest voice. "Mouse, I'm sorry. This is one thing I cannot
fix. Arthur is dying and if you want to spare him any further
pain I can inject him with something that will...uh...let him
pass on quietly and peacefully."
Mouse suddenly snatched Arthur and bolted out of the chamber, his
parting words, "Arthur's not gonna die. Mouse will fix!"
Vincent sensed Father's frustration. "I'll go after him, Father.
Don't worry. Ask Mary to watch Jacob, and then please bring your
bag to Mouse's chamber in a little while." Vincent kissed Father
on the cheek. Vincent's long strides took him quickly in Mouse's
direction.
Of all the tunnel dwellers, Mouse was the hardest to track, even
with Vincent's keen senses. His name was no accident--he moved
as quietly as his namesake. Vincent paused, tilted his head to
listen, and heard Mouse hurrying to his chamber.
As he walked, Vincent recalled how he had found Mouse many years
earlier. More accurately, how Mouse had found him by scurrying
around the tunnels watching, observing, stealing bits of food
from William's kitchen. One day Vincent won the "cat and mouse
game" by stalking Mouse and blocking him as he turned a corner.
Mouse was frightened and spent much of the next hour kicking and
screaming, but later he seemed grateful the game was over, as if
he had wanted to be found. Still, Mouse was never able to make
many close friends among the tunnel folk, except for Vincent,
Jamie and Arthur. Poor Arthur, poor Mouse, Vincent thought.
When Vincent arrived at Mouse's chamber, he found Mouse huddled
in the corner, Arthur still in the blanket in his arms. He saw
Mouse rocking back and forth, whispering, "Arthur, it's OK.
Mouse will fix if Father won't."
Vincent felt Mouse's pain as if a knife had stabbed his own
heart. It brought back still vivid memories of Catherine's death
and the long night he spent beside her when he returned her body
to the apartment. That time was emblazoned in his mind's
eye--watching her face for even the slightest movement that would
indicate that she was indeed alive! Many hours and tears later,
he had had to leave Catherine forever. Now he stood at the
threshold of another scene where death would soon be an unwelcome
but inevitable visitor.
Vincent cautiously sat beside Mouse, not yet making eye contact.
They sat that way for what seemed like an eternity.
It was Mouse who broke the silence. "Vincent, is Arthur really
dying?" Vincent turned to look at Mouse whose face was filled
with shock and pain.
"Yes, Mouse, I am afraid he is," Vincent replied softly.
"Father said he could make Arthur die now, not later. What'd he
mean?" This was the first time Mouse looked Vincent directly in
the eyes; it unsettled him.
Vincent had thought he was prepared for that question but found
his first words cracked out of his throat, "Mouse, you and I
can't know for sure that Arthur is in pain because he can't tell
us. But Father thinks he's suffering and that it would be kinder
to Arthur to put him out of his misery now, to let him die
peacefully."
"Not ready to let Arthur go. Mouse needs him here." Mouse was
adamant.
Vincent was keenly aware of the coldness of the tunnel wall on
his back, reminding him of the chill of pain in Mouse's heart and
the chill that would soon replace Arthur's warm body. He closed
his eyes and threw his head back against the wall. "I know you
need him. I needed Catherine, but I had to let her go, too."
"Father gives Arthur a shot. He dies. That's best for Arthur?"
As Vincent brought his head back down and opened his eyes, he
noticed that a single tear was running down Mouse's face. It
paused briefly at the edge of his chin and then dropped onto
Arthur's fur.
"Yes, Mouse." It was Father who replied. Vincent had heard him
approach. With some difficulty, Father crouched close to the
ground.
"OK good, OK fine. Father, do what's best for Arthur." Mouse's
voice trembled. Vincent sensed Mouse's fear at making this
decision but he knew Mouse's love for Arthur was the deciding
factor.
Vincent watched as Father tenderly put a hand on Mouse's
shoulder. "Mouse, I'm going to give Arthur two shots. The first
will make him go to sleep; the second one will end his pain by
ending his life. Know that you are giving Arthur a special gift
by allowing me to end his suffering this way."
Vincent turned to look at Father and saw that despite the calm
delivery of those words, he was quite upset because of his love
for Mouse. Father's eyes were misty with tears and his hand
shook just a bit as he loaded the first syringe.
Vincent held Mouse tightly and asked him if he wanted to leave
but Mouse wanted to stay "for Arthur." Mouse insisted on holding
Arthur as Father injected him first with the anesthetic. Mouse
dug his face into Arthur's fur, savoring the sounds, smells and
warmth of his friend. The next injection acted quickly to end
Arthur's life.
It was all over in a few minutes. Vincent squeezed Father's arm
and they exchanged knowing looks. Father kissed Mouse and left
as softly as he had come. Vincent remained with Mouse.
"Vincent, is Arthur really dead?" Vincent held Mouse close to
him. Mouse clutched Arthur.
"Yes, Mouse, he is," Vincent replied.
"What does dead really mean? Arthur is still here...see." Mouse
tenderly moved Arthur toward Vincent to show him.
Vincent reached out to Arthur and gently stroked his fur. "Yes,
Mouse, I see the Arthur you lived with every day. Please do this
for me--take your hand and put it on your chest." Vincent
recognized Mouse's familiar puzzled look but Mouse did what he
asked.
"What do you feel?" Vincent asked.
"Breathing. Heart beating. Warm." Mouse's voice was almost a
whisper.
"Now take your hand and hold it right here on Arthur." Vincent
gently guided Mouse's hand to Arthur's side. "What do you feel?"
"Nothing. Cold. No breathing, no beating." Mouse's voice was
flat and unemotional.
Vincent heard Mouse's words but more vividly felt Mouse's
understanding of the point he'd been trying to make. He
continued, "Mouse, we're all made up of bodies that breathe and
hearts that beat. Someday each of us will stop breathing and our
hearts will stop beating. That's what we call the death of the
body."
"Like Catherine?" Mouse looked at Vincent with sincere empathy.
"Yes, Mouse, like Catherine, Winslow, Ellie, Margaret and the
others who have died from the world Above and Below." Vincent
ended the sentence with a deep sigh.
"Arthur was my only friend besides you and Jamie. Others died,
didn't see them again. No more Arthur now, right?" As Mouse
said this, he looked up at Vincent, his eyes filled with sadness.
By this time, Vincent could not hold back the tears that trickled
down his cheek. His sorrow was, of course, first for Mouse, but
for himself as well. It had been two years since Catherine had
died and never a day passed that he did not think of her. He
knew how painful the longing was to see her again, to hold her,
to feel her breathing against his chest. Some people would say
that Arthur was "just an animal" and there could be no comparison
between the loss of someone like Catherine and the loss of
Arthur, but Vincent knew better. Arthur was as much a part of
Mouse's life as Catherine was of his.
"I'm afraid so." Vincent tried not to let Mouse see his tears or
hear his voice quiver in sorrow. It was useless.
Neither could speak for a moment. Mouse continued to rock
Arthur's lifeless body; Vincent's mind reeled with thoughts of
his own loss and that of his friend.
Vincent felt the need to communicate to Mouse his personal
reflections about these losses. "Mouse, let me tell you
something I've learned about death. Scholars and ordinary people
alike have studied it for centuries. No one knows for sure what
happens when we die but there are many who believe we are made up
of not only a body but something called a soul. Do you know what
a soul is, Mouse?"
"On the bottom of my shoe?" Mouse answered seriously. Vincent
couldn't help drawing closer to his innocent friend, if only to
hide his smile from Mouse. He would have to try to explain this
concept another way.
"No, Mouse, not that one. This soul I speak of is something we
cannot touch--the sole of a shoe is something we can see and
touch." Vincent was calmer and his voice was once again
composed.
"Yeah. So?" Vincent could tell by Mouse's answer that he didn't
yet understand what Vincent was trying to convey.
"Some think a soul is something we can neither see nor touch but
exists even after death." Vincent struggled for words to explain
something that was almost inexplicable.
Then he had an idea that might help Mouse understand. "Mouse,
you know how electricity travels, don't you?"
"Through wires. Mouse knows everything about electricity."
There was a small spark of pride in Mouse's voice. Vincent
noticed Mouse had relaxed his hold on Arthur's body and had
lowered it to his lap.
"Have you ever seen electricity?" Vincent asked.
"Seen sparks when I've done something dumb. Crossed wires once."
Mouse shifted nervously; Vincent knew Mouse didn't like to admit
when he'd done something wrong.
Vincent paused to choose just the right way to explain the next
part of the analogy. "What you saw was not the electricity
itself because no one can see electricity. When electricity
flows through a light bulb, it gives light. When there's no
electricity, there's no light. Even when there's no light, the
electricity is somewhere even if we can't see it."
"Yeah, I understand electricity. Don't understand what that has
to do with Arthur." Mouse's honesty often annoyed others but
Vincent knew Mouse meant well.
"Let's say the soul is like electricity. When Arthur was alive,
it was as if the electricity was in him. Now it's as if the
light bulb has burned out--electricity can't light it but the
electricity has not gone away--we just can't see it." Vincent
hoped he was getting through to Mouse at some level.
"You mean Arthur's body is no good now like a burned out light
bulb? Where'd the electricity go?" Mouse's response gave
Vincent hope that he had made some progress. Vincent relaxed and
shifted his body to a more comfortable position.
"Well, some would say his 'electricity' or soul is in a place
called heaven. Others would say he's on 'the other side.' No one
knows for sure, but I believe that when we die there is something
of us that lives on somewhere, especially in our hearts. Every
day I think of Catherine. Sometimes I even feel her with me."
The last sentence was hard for Vincent to finish because he
suddenly felt as if Catherine was there urging him on.
"Catherine...you miss her like I'm gonna miss Arthur." It was
not a question, rather a bittersweet statement of fact.
"Yes, Mouse, I miss her. What I want you to know is that even
though Catherine and Arthur are gone from our sight, they will
live on in our hearts and in our memories. I do not know what
happens when we die but I do know that I remember all the times
Catherine and I had together. I will remember her and so she
will live inside of me always. If you remember the times you had
with Arthur, then Arthur will live inside of you." Vincent
lightly tapped Mouse's head with one hand and with the other he
covered Mouse's heart.
"Think Catherine and Arthur are in the same place?" Mouse half
smiled as if that image gave him comfort. "Arthur liked
Catherine...don't want him to be scared without Mouse."
Vincent was deeply touched and somewhat amused by the image of
his Catherine with Arthur on her lap smiling down at them both.
He pulled Mouse close to him and kissed him on the top of the
head. "It is quite possible that Catherine and Arthur are
together. I'd like to think that, too, so that's how we shall
choose to imagine it."
Again, there was silence. "Vincent, what do we do now?" Vincent
sensed that Mouse could feel Arthur's body growing colder.
"It's our tradition to say good-bye to our friends. Arthur must
have a proper memorial service." At that moment, the reality of
Arthur's death must have hit Mouse because he burst into tears
and clung to Vincent. Vincent could make out only some phrases
among the sobs: "should have fed him better food...should have
spent more time with Arthur.....Mouse spent too much time
finding, taking for himself...never brought good enough stuff to
him." Vincent just let him weep while his own tears ran down his
cheeks and mingled with those of his friend. Before the crying
was over, Arthur's fur was washed in a mixture of tears from both
Mouse and Vincent. Vincent knew that this was not the end of the
Mouse's grieving, not the end of the guilt and the regret, but
just the beginning.
Sometime later, Mouse sat up and blew his nose on the back of his
sleeve. In a different situation, Vincent might have tried to
impart a lesson in etiquette but now was not the time. "Vincent,
this hurts bad. Almost like when Cullen stuck the knife inside
me. But there's no knife. Did you hurt like this when Catherine
died?"
Vincent knew it was important to answer this carefully, to let
Mouse know that was he was feeling was normal. "Yes, Mouse, I
did. I also felt guilty that I could not save her. Later, I
became angry that she had been taken from me. Those are normal
reactions when someone close to us dies."
"I'll never love a woman. Hurts too much to lose Arthur. Never
have another friend like Arthur, either." Once again, Vincent
was touched by Mouse's honesty.
Vincent sighed deeply. "Give yourself some time to heal before
you make such decisions."
Time passed. There was some quiet talk between the two friends
but mostly silence and physical closeness. Vincent finally took
Arthur's body from Mouse. "I promise to take good care of him.
You need to think of what you want to do for a memorial service.
You decide how you want to honor Arthur's memory."
"Know already what Arthur would want. OK good, OK fine. Know
what to do." Mouse's voice revealed both his conviction as well
as his weariness.
PART TWO
The day of the memorial service arrived. Cullen had made a
special wooden box and Vincent had placed Arthur's ashes inside
as was customary in the tunnels. The day before the service,
Mouse had asked Vincent to say some "important words" at the
service and said that he would take care of the rest.
At the appointed hour, Mouse's tunnel family collected at the
Mirror Pool. Their faces revealed their surprise as they saw
dancing lights bouncing off the water and walls, filling the cave
with beautiful kaleidoscopic images. Mouse and Jamie had brought
electricity to the Mirror Pool and the lava lamps that Mouse was
so fond of collecting were in a circle around Arthur's casket.
Mouse had also selected some of Arthur's favorite food from
William's kitchen and had placed it inside the circle of lights.
Finally, after everyone had gathered, Vincent and Mouse entered.
Mouse's eyes were red from crying, but as he started the service
his voice was unusually strong.
"Thanks for coming. Vincent told me death is like a burned out
bulb. When a bulb is good, electricity makes it light. When a
bulb burns out, no light. But electricity is still somewhere.
Brought lights here to remind me of when Arthur was not dead."
Mouse stopped abruptly--emotion caught up with him and he seemed
embarrassed. He turned to Vincent. "Vincent has important words
to say now, right Vincent?"
Vincent saw there were quite a few in the crowd who didn't
understand Mouse's impassioned introduction, but their affection
and sympathy for him were obvious.
Vincent softly cleared his throat and noticed that his mouth was
dry. Surely, he could not be nervous. Yes, Arthur was Mouse's
beloved friend but it wasn't as if he were about to speak of
Catherine...and yet, that was it! What he felt now was exactly
the sadness and pain he had felt right after Catherine died. As
he looked around the room, he noticed other teary-eyed friends
and wondered if they, too, were thinking of Catherine and Ellie
and Winslow and Lou and Margaret and the others who had passed
on. Any death makes us recall the losses in each of our lives,
Vincent mused. However, today they gathered to honor Arthur and
that is what he wanted to do for Mouse.
"Mouse has asked me to say 'important words' and that is not a
responsibility I take lightly. As I sat in my chamber this
morning, I remembered when I first met Arthur. Mouse was
attending a series of my classes; we were reading "The Chronicles
of Narnia" by C. S. Lewis. Mouse loved the stories and never
missed a class. We were beginning the last volume and Mouse was
late, which I thought was unusual. When he arrived, I glanced up
from my reading and was surprised to see the head of an animal
sticking out of his vest! I continued reading but each time I
glanced up, I noticed this animal's head moving. In a few
minutes, a tiny creature crawled out of the warm vest, startling
many in the class. I stopped and Mouse introduced us to Arthur.
I remember Mouse telling us of how he'd found this raccoon above
in a garbage can. I could see that Mouse and Arthur had already
become fast friends." Vincent glanced at Mouse, who grinned as
he reviewed his own memories of that first day with Arthur.
Vincent continued. "As many of you know, C. S. Lewis not only
wrote marvelous adventure stories but was a man of great depth of
character and thought. In honor of my first introduction to
Arthur and acknowledging Mouse's appreciation of Mr. Lewis, I
offer these, his words, as 'important words' for all of us who
have been separated from loved ones. I hope it reminds us all
that to love is the only choice we can make, even though it
brings us pain at times such as these."
"There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be
vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be
wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of
keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not
even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and
little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in
the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that
casket-- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It
will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable,
irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the
risk of tragedy, is damnation.
The only safe place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly
safe from all dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."
As Vincent finished, he could hear the muffled sniffles of those
around him. Mouse's eyes overflowed with tears. For a moment,
Vincent felt the unity of all those assembled, joined by an
essence of those who had passed on. He especially felt the
presence of Catherine as he looked at Jacob who stood beside
Mary. After all, his birthday--miraculous as it was--was the day
Catherine had died. Vincent stopped, bowed his head and closed
his eyes to conjure the image of a smiling Catherine with Arthur
sitting happily on her lap. A warmth enveloped him.
Mouse, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he walked, went to the
center of the circle of lights and picked up the box. He had
witnessed enough tunnel memorial services to know what to do
next.
He opened the box of Arthur's ashes and sprinkled them on the
water. He took the food and added it to the Mirror Pool.
"Arthur, Vincent says you'll be here." Mouse clutched the area
over his heart. "I will always remember you. You were Mouse's
best friend."
It was over. One by one, Mouse's friends--his surrogate
family--offered their condolences to Mouse which he shyly
accepted. Vincent stood in the corner watching, knowing that
even though the memorial service was over, the grieving was not.
Father, seeing Vincent standing alone, came and stood beside him.
"You know, Mouse will go back to his chamber and there will be no
Arthur. For some, that is harder to deal with than the actual
death."
"I know, Father," Vincent replied. " It's necessary for him to
have some time alone. I promise I will look in on him
regularly." Vincent was not surprised by Father's sensitivity.
After all, Father had suffered many losses of his own.
PART THREE
Almost a month later, Vincent was writing in his journal when
Mary came to the entrance of Vincent's chamber. He rose quickly
to greet her. "Mary, please come in."
Vincent detected a nervous edge to her voice as Mary started to
speak. "Vincent, I'm worried about Mouse. Have you noticed that
the twinkle in his eyes seems to grow dimmer every day? And
William just told me that Mouse hasn't been coming to meals. I'm
afraid Arthur's death has hit him harder than we expected."
Mary's concern was obvious. Her uncanny way of knowing when to
intervene on someone's behalf always amazed Vincent.
"Yes, Mary, I've noticed that Mouse is not himself. I know
there's a period of mourning after a death, but when does it
become a serious problem? I'll talk with Father and see if we
can help Mouse through this." Vincent affectionately patted
Mary's hand.
He rose immediately after Mary left and went to Father's chamber.
Father was reading so Vincent waited a moment before interrupting
him. "Father, have you noticed Mouse seems still to be mourning
Arthur's death? I know from my own experience it takes the heart
a long time to heal, but I'm worried. Mouse is not eating. He
shows no interest in his projects. Mary's worried about him.
What can we do?"
Father thoughtfully looked up over his reading glasses.
"Vincent, when you think about the time after Catherine's death,
is there anything that made the grief at least tolerable?"
Vincent sat down across from Father and was silent for a few
moments. He was thinking back to his quest for his son and what
it meant to finally find him. "Little Jacob." As he said the
words, Vincent knew exactly what Father meant in regard to Mouse.
Vincent rose quickly, moved to Father's side and kissed him
gently. "As always, Father, your wisdom is wondrous." With
that, Vincent swiftly left the chamber, knowing that Father was
sitting there with a smile on his face at Vincent's last words.
He also knew Father was flattered but unsettled as well since he
never knew what action his words might inspire in his son.
Early the next morning, Vincent went to Mouse's chamber. He
expected Mouse to be awake. "Mouse?"
"Vincent, I'm here." Mouse was lying in his bed, still groggy
with sleep. His chamber was a mess, more so than usual. It was
obviously time for Vincent's plan.
Vincent fidgeted with his cloak while talking with Mouse. "It's
been almost a month since Arthur died. How do you feel?" he
asked.
In a weak, sad voice, Mouse replied, "Strange. Lonely."
"I know that feeling well. Remember when Catherine died and I
found Jacob?" Mouse nodded. Vincent continued. "Jacob cannot
replace Catherine, but I've watched him grow and even in the
depths of despair he has made me laugh and brought me much joy."
Vincent spoke in his normal voice, but he had trouble containing
what was hidden under his cloak.
"Jacob's a good kid. So? I'll never have a kid." Mouse replied
emphatically, almost angrily.
"No one knows what the future holds. In the meantime, I have a
favor to ask and it is something we must deal with immediately."
Something under his cloak continued to distract Vincent. He
finally reached inside and pulled out a kitten...a yellow tabby.
The kitten's ribs were evident even under the fur; its eyes were
red and swollen, its coat was matted and dirty. The kitten
obviously needed food and attention.
"Mouse, please help me. One of the helpers just brought this to
me and you know how Father feels about animals in the main
chambers. This kitten was abandoned and is in great need of
care. Since I can't keep it, will you keep it for me?" The
kitten was relieved to be out from under the cloak and was
attempting to crawl up Vincent's vest.
Mouse was intrigued but cautious. He tried to look away, but
Vincent saw Mouse's eyes dart back to the kitten. By the time
Vincent disengaged the tiny cat from his clothing, it was too
late for Mouse to refuse because Vincent immediately dumped the
wriggling kitten in Mouse's lap. The kitten crawled up Mouse's
arm and sat purring on his shoulder. Mouse could not hold back a
smile that ran from ear to ear.
"Sure, Vincent. You do me favors. I owe you. What's its name?"
"I thought you should do the honors. I must go now, Father will
be waiting. Can you take care of this little one?" Vincent
tried to suppress a smile so Mouse didn't catch on that this was
a contrived situation.
"Mouse raised Arthur from this size. Arthur was like a cat. No
problem. OK good, OK fine." Mouse took the kitten from his
shoulder and cradled it in his arms. Vincent flashed back to a
similar scene when Mouse had cradled Arthur in much the same way.
Vincent walked away, knowing his plan would work. Catherine's
words rang in his ears from one of their last conversations which
had revolved around Vincent's anger at the loss of their bond:
"Maybe the gift will return to you in another form.
Something you never even dreamed of...and if one gift is
lost, there are other gifts waiting to be found."
He was not quite out of earshot when he heard Mouse say, "Vincent
gave, Mouse takes care of. You look like Vincent. Name you
Vinnie."
Vincent couldn't help smiling as he wondered what Catherine would
think of the unexpected gift called "Vinnie." As he walked into
his chamber and saw little Jacob asleep in his bed, he realized
that for the first time he truly understood what she had meant
about gifts. As a tear, composed of one part joy and one part
sorrow, made its way down his cheek, he lifted his head toward
the heavens and whispered, "Thank you, Catherine, from Mouse and
from me."
THE END
About The Author
This is Linda's first B&B story. She found the show in February
1994 while struggling to find a cure for the cancer that was
stealing her yellow tabby cat, Zonker, from her family. She
says, "The show and the friends I met through it comforted me
during those hard times and the much harder times to come." One
of her unexpected gifts was being able to write about Zonker's
death by euthanasia on December 28, 1994, and as a result to find
some comfort for the pain of losing her in-laws, Jacob and
Elizabeth Moore, and one of the family dogs, Laddie, during a
5-month period a year ago.
But there have been other unexpected gifts as well. She's been
told that the story has helped others deal with deaths of their
loved ones. The Moore family has also been blessed by three
additions to the household: Joy and Kelley, two beautiful Golden
Retrievers, and Lucky, a kitten Zonker would be proud of.
You can reach Linda at lindam@mindspring.com