A loved one passed away recently, leaving the rest of the family scrambling to deal with all of the things nobody is ever truly prepared for — funerals, estates, and caring for other family members affected by the loss. Everyone gets their turn eventually, but you’re never truly ready. It just happens, and you’re thrown in the deep end to sink or swim.
This particular family member had a lot of pets, and one of the responsibilities that fell on my brother and me was the job of rounding them up and taking them to a local adoption center to help them find new homes. Dealing with cute cuddly animals surely was more joyful than coping with the hard realities of death, so we happily took the job. Arriving at the home with a sense of purpose, we opened the door expecting a gaggle of furry creatures excited to be held and fed.
The dogs were naturally suspicious at first, but once the food came out they softened up and were as sweet as can be. A few belly rubs and a short ride later, and they were well cared for and ready for adoption.
And then there were the cats.

