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Zurf wrote:

On the subject of spiritual pet visitations...I kid you not, but we do from time to time hear the jingle of tags from Grouchy Old Lady, but the funniest is that sometimes when my wife and I are laying in bed we smell her farts.  There's a distinctive bouquet that she imparted to them that's instantly recognizable, and by golly we do smell them every once in a while.  It'll wake us up and we get a laugh about it. I swear it isn't me trying to sneak one by my Funny Little Honey, or vice versa.

Zurf, Dondra and I have become convinced that many animals, including our pets are "self-aware" and have been for quite a long time. As Bert died, in the very last second of his life, as I was holding him in my arms, both of us on his favorite large feather pillow, he locked eyes with me, and in that moment I was sure we'd see each other again, somehow, somewhere.

Of course, if there's a hell, I sure wouldn't want him there seeing me standing in cow manure up to my neck, drinking coffee and the devil walking in, saying, "Okay, coffee break's over! Everybody back on your heads."

Sorry. Couldn't help it. "Opie" came out for a few seconds, there....

Bill
PS: Z,  (can I call you that for short, sometimes?) She must have been a wonderful pet! Cat or dog? In my experience, Bert has never farted - either in bed or otherwise. He was what you'd call "uppity" as most cats are. He was a Maine Coon. I'm sorry, and I don't mean to sound racist (I'm far from it), but I have always dreaded meeting a person of color from New England and them asking what kind of cat I have. ----- Sorry. Opie again.