Squeaky was a rescue kitty who lived with us about three years, more or less. I considered him a delight. Bud, not so much. They had dominance issues they never completely worked out, but Squeaky gave it his best shot, taking swats at Bud till the last. Here you see Squeaky on his sunning shelf in the window. I put a bird feeder right outside to keep it interesting. Of course, the squirrel had to get in the act. They had a fine time together, playing through the window. Buzzy, my American Esky dog was always jealous of the quality time Squeaky spent on his perch in the window, backing up far enough to see them playing together, alternately crying and bringing toys to attempt to lure Squeaky away. Naturally, Squeaky ignored all that. Sadly, we recently lost Squeaky to kidney failure.
This is what I got when I went over to pick up illustrations for my post. Mother is getting a little difficult. I’d been gone for several days. Surely, should could have found a little time for a break while I was gone. Seriously, we have some great times together.
Here she is relaxing on the patio she built herself. Did I mention she’s past eighty?
In the picture below she is checking out real estate in a cemetery. She likes to be prepared and wanted to know if it would be comfortable. Did you notice the fanny pack? She thinks she “can take it with her.” I told her it would all just get burned up!
The crowds had been packing the traveling “tent revival” every night that week, grateful offerings filling the pockets of the evangelist. Cure after cure was enacted in the sweltering heat of those July evenings. Emotions were at an all time high on the last night as the last two afflicted souls reached the evangelist at the front of the tent..
Struggling up the steps on her crutches poor Mrs. Smith hobbled up to the evangelist. “Heal me! I haven’t been able to walk without crutches in twenty years.”
“Yes, Sister! You will be healed! Go behind that curtain and wait with the others waiting for healing.” Mrs. Smith slowly and painfully made her way behind the curtain.
Johnny Jones was the last in line. “I have a lifth. It hath made my life awful. Pleath heal me of my lifth!”
“Yes, Brother! You will be healed! Go behind the curtain with all the others and you will all be healed at once.”
The evangelist offered up a long, heartfelt prayer for healing. Weeping could be heard all over the tent. Finally, he concluded, calling out dramatically. “Mrs. Smith, you haven’t been able to walk without crutches for twenty years, have you?”
“No, Lord!” she replied from behind the curtain.
“You are healed! Throw your right crutch over the curtain.” Her right crutch clattered over the curtain. “Now throw your left crutch over the curtain.” The left crutch followed.
Thunderous “Amens!” echoed all over the tent.
“Johnny Jones, you are healed of your lisp. Call out to us in a loud, clear voice so all can hear!” demanded the evangelist!
“Mithuth Thmith just fell on her ath!”