I personally think Sigmund Freud was wrong about a lot of things, but he hit the nail smack on the head when he said, “We are never so hopelessly unhappy as when we lose love.” This applies to both the loss of loved ones and beloved pets. I lost my best friend of nearly 18 years this week when my Jinx Kitty died of total liver failure. I was, indeed, feeling hopelessly unhappy. That is until I paid a visit to the Abandoned Pet Rescue shelter and sat in the middle of the floor, unabashedly presenting myself to a very critical panel of human character judges. I wasn’t on the floor more than a minute when a little black ball of fur named Michon decided to test my mettle. This one was definitely a Laplander. It was love at first purr. It reminded me of a poster my son emailed to me awhile back that says, “The most powerful anti-depressant has four paws and a purr.”
The shelter can be an overwhelming experience for me, since cats are much like potato chips; I can’t seem to have just one. “Cheaper by the dozen” also entered my mind, but the thought of Broward County Animal Control hauling me off to the funny farm soon blew that thought to smithereens. I decided to adopt just one more. It didn’t take long to find the perfect companion for my little love-a-holic, and she, too, is a perfect little all-black fur ball named Shadow. I think Jinx would approve.
These two will never replace Jinx, but the human heart is like the infinite universe; no matter how many stars there are now, there’s always room for one more (or two, or three). Now I can’t wait to bring the tidings of great joy home to my other three natural substitutes for Prozac.
