A timely reminder that it takes millions of people throughout the world to step up to the plate and do the right thing.
There is no point in getting upset or angry unless you are ready to do your bit.
Here is a story of a woman doing the right thing, even when her heart is in grief. And she couldn't be happier.
We are a small and close knit little group. We love animals; little babies and the precious wisdom of the elderly.
We respect old fashioned values and the whole concept of caring and love of all that deserve our protection.
When writer Redhead ( aged nearly 90 ) lost her companion of so many years, her heart was broken.
I am reminded of something that so many commenters said on social media ( when they learned of Redhead's loss of her beloved Jack Russell )
" please do not deprive other animals of her love: she clearly has too much to give for it to go to waste. "
And so it was, that yesterday, I accompanied Redhead to the local animal shelter and sought the attention of a fur baby to ease her pain and loss. But more importantly, where her love and dedicated care and devotion could best serve.
I am reminded of the menfolk who served in our wars: just because a beloved mate and comrade fell, did not mean that we would stop looking after those that were left.
She valiantly, at 90 years of age, stepped up to the plate and, having buried her much loved and beloved little chum of 17 and a half years, rallied on and wiped her tears.
We had a very emotional time: I, still grieving for my darling Bridget (gone for 8 months... I still find that hard to believe .. ), and Redhead, wounded and bereft as she suffered the loss of her elderly cat ( Daisy ) and her little Jack Russell, all in the space of two months.
Today is the anniversary of her late husband's birthday. He would have been 96 years old. He would not have wanted her alone.
As we approached the animal shelter, we both had trepidation in our hearts. Were we doing the right thing? Was she " too old ) at 90, to be taking on a new responsibility?
And it struck me ( and Redhead ) that as long as we are alive and breathing, yes, we do have a responsibility to do what we can, when we can, where we can and while we can.
Two little faces looked up at Redhead. A brother and sister.
Little Manx Cats.
Of course, as many of you know, Redhead's late husband was Manx. Hailing from the Isle of Man, in the middle of the Irish Sea, it seemed somehow prophetic.
The decision was made and these two little fur babies who had been sent in and out of shelters, had finally been offered a Mum who would love them and protect them, cherish them and be their devoted and loyal servant.
As it should be with those who rely upon us for love and protection.
If something happens to Redhead, ( and age does not come into it anymore these days - people are dropping like flies with vaccine reactions) there are plenty here in my family who would take over their care in a heartbeat.
But more importantly, here is a story of a woman who is prepared to love and be loved and take the time to help these two little babies find a loving and safe place in this confused and angry world.
Little Beau is a rather gorgeous young chap. His face is somehow rather handsome - much like Mr Beaconsfield or any man that Shaydee would melt and croon over.
He is already swooshing against her legs and letting her know that he is rather capable of being seduced... or ... rather... he will seduce her.
Redhead doesn't like whiskers, but, on this occasion, I suspect his whiskers will be very welcome indeed as they brush up against her face and he lets her know that she has done a good thing in becoming his slave.
Little Bridget ( his sister ) is supposedly timid, but all that Redhead has witnessed has been rather a clever little girl who uses her feminine wiles to let he brother know she is boss.
She is lying in the luxurious double cat bed and stretching out and basking in the sun.
And, yes, she is Bridget. And I have no problem with that.
After all, my own darling Bridget was a naughty little minx ( not manx ) and I find no problem with having another fur baby carry on her legacy of years of being pampered, adored, loved and worshipped.
Somehow, it all seems to fit quite nicely into the pattern of life.
More often than not, I called her " Bubbie " because she was my baby.
And I loved her.
She was with me for ten short years but, after all, she had a tough start to life so I am thankful that she had a loving and protective home after her tough start.
Redhead will no doubt update you with her news of this new relationship and new friendship.
For me, I am happy that Mum has given two young fur babies a new life in a place of safety and love. With a willing servant to take care of them.
After all, isn't that our duty as custodians of the weak and vulnerable?
How many children are shunted from pillar to post in the foster care system?
How many never know the love of a family?
We have to start looking after those who can't look after themselves.
The young, the unborn, the elderly, the injured.
How many Redheads are there out there?
How many are prepared to stand up and fight and do their DUTY?
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