She came into our life by chance.  A cute black and white tuxedo cat, with a distinctive white strip running up her forehead.  Starting the year, she was off.  Something wrong.  The vet gave us bad news.  Kidney failure.  At sixteen years old, there were a few options, but attempting to extend her life for our sake was selfish.  She still relished petting and rubbing as usual, but it was time.  We made the loving decision to say goodbye.  We showered her with kisses and love as she breathed her last.  Our little girl.  Our sweet Oreo. 

It’s only been a couple of weeks as of when I write this and it still hurts.  I’ve lost pets before, and while they may not compare to the loss of a loved one, the heartbreak is real.  Over the past couple of years, I appreciate the importance of being in the moment.  Oreo would sit and just be there.  She would look out the window, and just be looking.  Maybe she was teaching me by example.  Usually, I find myself bouncing around, one thing for a few minutes, and then onto something else, and then back to the original.  Never really being in the moment, like she was.  In many respects, we’re all works in progress. 

Oreo made me realize that the little moments of beauty and love should be savored.  This happens when you’re in the moment.  The life of a cat or dog is far too short for the love and joy they bring us.  There are times when I do the math of life.  Oreo was around thirteen, and I wondered how much longer she had.  Our two dogs are ten and thirteen now, and I wonder how things will be a year from now.  For the moment, they are their usual self, but there are no guarantees.  I realize that Oreo was giving me a good life lesson.  Be in the moment.  Savor things more.

When rubbing along the side of her face and down her throat, Oreo would purr loudly.  She made cute squeaks when surprised, and often when she was gazing out the window, I’d give her a little to get this reaction.  I’d pet her a bit, and always focused on the softness of her fur and how she’d vibrate from the purring.  I’d spend a few moments with my head against her side, listening to the full roar of her engine running (her purring).  The sound was intriguing, and obviously she loved the closeness of me right there.  I’m experiencing these sensations as I type.  Those in the moment memories still fresh in my mind.  Forever vivid.

I’ve tried to memorize these moments.  To put them into my permanent memory just as I’ve done with the sounds of my mom and brother.  I close my eyes and can listen to them talking now.  Oreo reminded me the importance of putting these moments into memory.  This morning, I rubbed Gretchen’s (our small black and tan dachshund/possible corgi mix) belly and remembered a moment with Oreo.  I focused on the softness of her fur.  I focused on her soft grunts of delight for having a good belly rub to begin the day.  And when I get home from work, I’ll savor the squeals celebrating my return home. 

May we all learn this lesson of wisdom from Oreo.  Be in the moment as much as you can.  Commit feelings of love and joy to memory.  Life will give us hard challenges, and if we’ve blurred through life, remembering their faces, their voices, or the sounds of their laughs may be difficult.  Don’t get caught up in the rush of things.  Oreo came into our life by chance.  A cute, hungry stray about fifteen years ago.  I think she adopted us as much as we adopted her.  We gave her a good life, one of love and comfort.  She gave us love and joy in return.  I’ll always miss her conversations.  I’ll even miss her overly loud meows during her middle of the night active periods that would always wake everyone up. 

Stop and cherish the things that are important to you as much as you can.  Life is fleeting and quick.  Oreo gave me a good lesson to be in the moment, and she obviously enjoyed a little attention during those moments. 

My sweet, beautiful Oreo, you may be gone, but will always be a part of us, and will always miss you.