Dear Dr. Annie,
Your visit today meant more than I can put into words. You have a calming effect that goes beyond most human beings. I really felt peaceful about Snoopy's passing after you left—I know she is now surrounded by love and care. I feel her so strongly.
Thank you so very much, dear Dr. Annie. You are a true angel in this world. Below is a memorial I wrote for my sweet Snoopy.
Love and blessings to you,
Marcia Leong
photo: Snoopy & Happy
“Little Miss Independent”—that is what I called this dear, little, agile, black cat named Snoopy. Snoopy was an “I’ll do it myself” kitty. When I picked her up, she promptly wrapped herself around my neck like a scarf. She decided when she should eat and howled at me relentlessly until I served her meal. She led her brother around the house on merry chases, jumped to where he could not reach her, or balanced on the narrow back of a chair, as only she could.
Snoopy welcomed several brothers and sisters into our home throughout her life. In her last ten years, she “trained” three older German Shepherds (from GSROC) and two homeless kittens. When a new German Shepherd arrived, I carefully separated the kitties from the new Shepherd, determined to make safe, slow, and careful introductions. In time, when safety was not an issue, I had only a gate to separate the kitties from the new Shepherd. Snoopy was the first kitty to jump the gate and march up to the new Shepherd to introduce herself. The new Shepherd understood—we never had a mishap.
Twenty years ago, Snoopy and her brother, Happy, came to live with me when they were six weeks old. They were inseparable the majority of their lives. Happy sadly passed three years ago, due to liver cancer. Snoopy and I grew very close in these past three years, making up for Happy’s companionship and keeping her comfortable as she grew older with her own issues. She slept with me every night. When the alarm went off in the morning, and I got back into bed with my coffee, she snuggled under the covers and purred. This was a little piece of Heaven that I will always cherish.
Although Snoopy grew thin and weak in the last two months, she remained an agile jumper and loudly howled for food—on her own schedule. I knew she was close to her time on a Wednesday evening and called Dr. Annie Forslund. Although Dr. Annie kindly offered to come that night, I thought Thursday would be soon enough. Again, dear little Snoopy kept her own schedule. She quietly passed—with no struggle—early Thursday morning, right after our “snuggle time” together.
I will continue to bless your sweet, little soul, Snoopy, and pray that I feel your little spirit once again in our “little piece of Heaven.”