I brought Ben and his siblings home on November 18, 2015. I found them on the streets. Only Ben survived. I fed him milk, watched him grow stronger, and smiled when he took his first bites of solid food. He’s turning 11 this November. Through every twist in life, Ben has stayed.
When Kathleen went to be with Jesus last year on November 15, the two-night wake service was filled with people – family, friends, kind words, and warm hugs. Jesse and Andrea stayed on to help cleaned up the house before they go back to Adelaide. Everyone did what they could. But when the house went quiet, Ben stayed. No words. No questions. Just presence. That kind of loyalty cuts deep.
Ben has seen me through every hard day. When I had eye surgery and started to sleep downstairs, he thought it was the best thing ever. He’s been curled up nearby every night since.
Tomorrow, I’m taking him to the vet. Seeing him shot up from his sleep to gasp for air scared me. Twice I saw it. Besides those 5 seconds, he was ok the other 23 hours 59 minutes and 55 seconds of the day. I do not want to take any chances. I’m nervous. I’m praying for good news, for more time. Because Ben isn’t just a pet. He’s family. He’s the one constant in a life that has seen too much loss. That’s why he tugs at my heart—because he never let go of mine.
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