作者：暖小昕
出版社：宁波出版社
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
每天读点好英文：世界那么大，可我只有你试读：
再待十分钟 An Extra Ten Minutes
佚名/Anonymous世界那么大，可我只有你每周一下午两点，我和博都要去密尔沃基东北部的银泉康复中心，为住在那里的老人们进行一小时的宠物治疗。我们穿过走廊走向接待室，与每位相遇的人打招呼。在接待室里休养的人都会过来爱抚博——一只活泼可爱的德国短毛猎犬。他今年10岁，体重99磅，很招人喜欢。你们很难想象，8年前，这只狗被打得伤痕累累，来到我家门阶上，一见到人就吓得仰躺在地，四脚朝天，抬起腿来就撒尿，直到人们抚摸他，柔声细语地安慰他，他才会有安全感。
我们初次拜访康复中心，路经淡黄色的1号走廊时，从112号房间里传出一位老人激动的声音，带着浓重的德国口音：“玛，玛，来了一条德国狗！这里，有条德国狗！”
随即，一位皱纹满面、约6英尺高的白发瘦高老人出现在门口，他张开有力的双臂，伸出大手，邀请我们进去。“我是查理，这是我的妻子埃玛。请进，请进。”
博听到查理友好、热情的声音，身子立刻激动地晃个不停，摆出贴近人大腿的姿势，等着人爱抚他，查理立即满足了他的愿望。我们进了屋，看见有着紫罗兰色头发的埃玛坐在床上，她80多岁了，虽然瘦弱但精力充沛。她笑着用手拍打床，只拍了一下，拴着皮带、向来顺从的博就跳上床，躺在她的身边，舔她的脸。查理告诉我们，“二战”期间他俩从德国移民到英国，不得不忍痛割爱，把德国短毛猎犬马克斯留在那里。说到这里，埃玛满眼泪水。查理说，博长得和马克斯简直一模一样。
隔壁114房住的是七十多岁的老太太凯瑟琳，几个月前她就不跟别人说话了，近一个月以来她都坐在轮椅上，始终处于紧张性精神分裂状态。任何关心、拥抱、谈心或陪伴都无法打动她。我和博走进她的房间时，床边的小灯亮着，遮阳窗帘拉着，她背对着我们，低头垂肩坐在轮椅上，面朝看不到任何风景的窗子。世界那么大，可我只有你
博用套着他的皮带拽着我向前走去。我还没来得及蹲到凯瑟琳面前，博就已经站在她的左侧，并把头靠在她的膝盖上。我拉了把椅子坐在她跟前并向她问好，但她没有反应。我和博在那里坐了15分钟，而凯瑟琳一言未发，一动不动。这让我很吃惊，而令我更吃惊的是，博把长长的下巴搭在凯瑟琳的膝盖上，竟一动不动地站了整整15分钟。
你要是了解博，就会知道他为得到一次爱抚，能等上10秒钟就已经很难得了。但这次是个例外，他把头贴在凯瑟琳的膝盖上，和她一样僵在那里。与这个毫无生气的女人在一起让我感到极不舒服。一到两点半，我就匆忙地说“再见”，然后站起身来，拉着不愿离开的博往外走。
我问一位护士，为什么凯瑟琳会得这种紧张性精神分裂症，她告诉我：“我们也不知为什么。有时候老人被家人嫌弃，他们就会得这种病，我们只能尽力让他们感到舒心。”
眼前浮现出所有能使我幸福生活的善良的人和动物，而后又消失了。我能想象得到凯瑟琳此刻的心情：孤单、烦乱、绝望，甚至被人遗忘。我决心找寻一种方法去读懂她的心。
从那以后，每周一我和博去接待室时，都会特意去112房探视查理和埃玛，还要去114房陪伴凯瑟琳。每次都如此——查理挥手邀我们进屋，埃玛拍床等博去舔她，两人对此总是不亦乐乎。然后我们去凯瑟琳的房间——她总是无精打采地坐在那里，除了还有呼吸外，几乎没有一点儿其他的生命迹象。
每次我都试着和凯瑟琳说话，可她一直没反应。我逐渐失去了兴致，我不甘心只是跟她待在一起。博却一如既往，每次探访凯瑟琳，博都会“坐禅”15分钟，教我如何“陪伴”凯瑟琳。
第四次去康复中心时，我打算绕过凯瑟琳的房间，可是博却有自己的主意，他把我拽了进去，跟前几次一样，他把头搭在她的膝盖上，待在她的左侧。我默许了，可是心里想着那天下午晚些时候的商务会谈，因此我决定把陪凯瑟琳的时间从以往的15分钟缩短为5分钟。我没吭声，只是默默地坐在那里，一门心思想着即将开始的会谈。凯瑟琳肯定没有注意，也不会在意。可是我起身要拽走博的时候，他却纹丝不动。
接下来，奇迹发生了——凯瑟琳把手放到了博的头上，没有别的举动，只是她的手。博既没有像往常那样用鼻子蹭，也没有越发用力地摇晃身子，他仍然纹丝不动，像雕塑一样站在那里。
我又坐了下来，心中有说不出的震惊。随后在那宝贵的10分钟里，我感受着凯瑟琳的手和博的头之间那种生命之源的沟通。两点半时，时钟响了，我们的15分钟到了，此时凯瑟琳的手缓慢地移回膝上，博也转身走出房间。
那次探访已经过去了10年，博在8年前因中风死在我的怀里。爱有多种表达方式，每一次我因对某人感到失望而准备离开时，都会想起博对凯瑟琳和对我那坚贞不渝的爱。既然博能有耐心多待10分钟，那么我坚信我也能。
On Monday afternoons at two o'clock, Beau and I would arrive at the Silver Spring Convalescent Center on Milwaukee's northeast side of town for an hour of pet therapy with the seniors who lived there. We'd walk the hallways greeting everyone on our way to the hospitality room, where residents would come to pet Beau and bask in the adoration of this beautiful, happy, ten-year-old, ninety-nine-pound Doberman pinscher. You'd never know this was the same dog that arrived at my doorstep eight years earlier so beaten, scarred and scared that as soon as he made eye contact with you, he'd lie down on his back with his feet up in the air and pee until you petted and soothed him into feeling safe.
On our first visit, as we walked through the canary-yellow Hallway One, I heard an elderly man's excited voice, thick with a German accent, streaming out of room 112. “Ma, Ma, the German dog is here! The German dog is here! ”
No sooner did I hear the voice than a wrinkle-faced, six-foot-tall, white-haired pogo stick of a man was greeting us at the door, swooping his big, open hand and strong arm across the doorway, inviting us in, “I'm Charlie. This is my wife, Emma. Come in, come in.”
When Beau heard Charlie's friendly, enthusiastic voice, his entire body went into his customary wagging frenzy and lean against your thigh position, waiting for a petting, which was immediately forthcoming from Charlie. As we walked into the room, a frail but lively eighty, violet-haired Emma sat in bed, smiling, patting her hand on the bed. All she had to do was pat once, and Beau, leashed and always obedient, was up on the bed lying down beside her, licking her face. Her eyes were full of tears as Charlie told us that he and Emma had immigrated to the United States from Germany during World War II and had to leave their beloved Doberman, Max, behind. Max, according to Charlie, was the spitting image of Beau.
The next door, room 114, was home to Katherine, a woman in her seventies who had stopped talking for a few months earlier and had been living in a catatonic state in her wheelchair for the past month. No amount of love, hugs, talking or sitting had been able to stir her. When Beau and I walked into her room, a small light was on next to her bed and the shades were pulled. She was sitting in her wheelchair, her back toward us, slouched over, facing the viewless window.
Beau was pulling ahead of me with his leash. Before I could get around to kneeling down in front of her, he was at her left side, with his head in her lap. I pulled a chair up in front of her, sat down and said hello. No response. In the fifteen minutes that Beau and I sat with Katherine, she never said a word and never moved. Surprising as that may be, more surprising was that Beau never moved either. He stood the entire fifteen minutes, his long chin resting on her lap.
If you knew Beau, you'd know that even ten seconds was an eternity to wait for a petting. Not here. He was as frozen as Katherine, head glued to her lap. I became uncomfortable with the lack of life in this woman. When the clock chimed 2:30 p.m., I rushed to say good-bye, stood up and pulled the reluctant Beau out.
I asked one of the nurses why Katherine was catatonic. “We don't know why. Sometimes it just happens when elderly people have family who show no interest in them. We just try to make her as comfortable as possible.”
All the wonderful people and animals who blessed my life flashed in front of my eyes, and then they were gone. I felt what I imagined Katherine must be feeling lonely, lost and forgotten. I was determined to find a way through to her.
Every Monday thereafter, Beau and I made our rounds to the hospitality room, stopping to make special visits in room 112 to visit Charlie and Emma, and in room 114 to sit with Katherine. Always the same response—Charlie waving us in and Emma patting the bed, waiting for Beau's licks, both so alive. And then on to Katherine, sitting desolately, no sign of life except for her shallow breathing.
Each visit I attempted to engage Katherine in conversation. No response. I grew more and more frustrated with Katherine, not content with just “being”with her. Yet here was Beau, meditative dog, teaching me how to “be”and love quietly, assuming “the position”for the fifteen minutes we sat at each visit.
On our fourth visit, I was ready to bypass Katherine's room, but Beau had other plans. He pulled me into Katherine's room and took his familiar pose on her left side, head on lap. I acquiesced,but since I had a business meeting later in the afternoon with which I was preoccupied, I decided to cut short our usual fifteen minutes with Katherine to five. Instead of talking, I remained quiet, focusing inwardly on my upcoming meeting. Surely she'd never notice or care. As I stood up to walk out and began to pull Beau away, he wouldn't budge.
And then the most miraculous thing happened. Katherine's hand went up to the top of Beau's head and rested there. No other movement, just her hand. Instead of Beau's customary response of nose nuzzling and increased body wagging, he continued to stand like a statue, never moving from his spot.
I sat back down in silent shock, and for the next ten precious minutes, reveled in the stream of life flowing between Katherine's hand and Beau's head. As the clock chimed half-past two, marking the end of our fifteen minutes, Katherine's hand gently slid back into her lap, and Beau turned to walk out of the door.
It's been ten years since that visit and eight years since Beau died in my arms from a stroke. Love has many ways of showing its face. Each time I am ready to walk away from a person on whom I've given up, I am reminded of the power of Beau's loving persistence with Katherine and with me. If Beau can give an extra ten minutes, surely I can too.
杰克的爱心 Jake and Cat
佚名/Anonymous一开始，杰克就很清楚地表现出他对猫的看法：她们最适合作为一道菜放在盘中。
杰克是我们家养的狗，他是一只身形高大、盛气凌人的公狗，他的身上有着博德牧羊犬、拉布拉多猎犬以及一点德国牧羊犬的血统。在他两岁的时候，我们从当地的一家动物避难所收养了他。我心爱的玛撒因一场意外的疾病离开了，后来杰克走进了我们的生活。那天，我们去避难所原本想再找一只像玛撒一样的皮毛乱蓬蓬的母狗，但是在湖边我们发现了一只短毛的公狗，他高傲地、静静地坐在那些狂吠不止的狗中间。我们告诉避难所的管理员，我们要带杰克回家，因为我们能感觉到他的身上有一种神奇的魔力。“这样太好了，”管理员说道，“当他把那种神奇的魔力展现在你面前时，请不要再将他送回来了！”
杰克很快就成了我们喜爱的家庭成员。他很喜欢看我们用无数的喂食器和鸟盆来吸引院子里的小鸟。他和邻居家的小狗及附近其他的狗在公园里一起做游戏，但是他非常明确地表示：猫是不允许到他的领地上来的。如果有任何猫走得太近了，他就会穷追不舍地将她们撵走。一开始，杰克就很清楚地表现出他对猫的看法：她们最适合作为一道菜放在盘中。
有一天，我发现我们的柴堆房里有几只很小的野猫。尽管我是一个养狗人，也从来没有想过要和猫共同生活，但是我的内心深处还是对这三只小猫充满了怜悯。她们大概有四周大，灰色斑纹的皮毛十分漂亮，大大的眼睛充满了恐惧，她们的妈妈不见了。我将她们放进一只箱子，并拿到屋里。杰克听见猫叫的声音，就立刻开始分泌唾液，流着口水，并喘着粗气。兽医告诉我们：“有些狗在任何情况下都是不会接受猫的。”
那次小猫事件已经过去一年了，有一天我向外望去，目光落在一张桌子上，看见杰克竖着耳朵，头歪向一边，盯着地面。在他的脚下有一只小猫咪，静静地坐着。我试图用温和的话语安抚杰克，使他平静下来，我又往前走得近些，希望能阻止那种我确信即将发生的悲惨攻击。那只小猫的眼睛受到了严重感染，可能已经看不见了，不知道自己在哪里或是还不知道自己即将面临危险。但是杰克只是盯着那只小猫，然后又看看我，再转过去看看小猫。我听见了猫的叫声，发现桌子底下还有一只小猫。于是我把这两只猫都放进盒子里，将这个盒子作为她们临时的家。我把盒子放在车库，然后开始打电话给我所知道的那些动物收养所，不厌其烦地向他们说着同样的故事——我的狗从来不允许那些猫进入我们家，我需要立刻将这两只小猫重新安置好。
第二天早晨，我们又发现三只小猫躺在门口的柴堆旁，蜷缩在一起取暖。于是我把她们也带了进来，并放在盒子里。
我的心情异常沉重。现在，我们已经有五只小猫了，她们的眼睛都感染得很厉害。她们都将被送到一个挤满了被遗弃的动物的家庭里。一整天，我都在不停地打电话，只是一遍又一遍地被告知已经没有足够的地方再收养更多的动物了。我知道现在我已经无从选择了。我的眼中噙着泪，拨通了兽医院的电话，希望他们把小猫永远带出我的生活。与此同时，我又看了看杰克，他静静地观察着身边的一切，没有流口水，也没有喘息声。他看起来没有一点不安与急躁，我感觉有些事情发生了改变。
于是，我平静地坐着，而且心中有一个声音告诉我该怎么做。我给兽医打了电话，预约检查小猫的眼睛。从兽医院回家的路上，我去了一家宠物店，买了第一箱猫食。回到家中，我将放小猫的盒子拿到屋里。杰克在旁边等着。时间到了，于是我小心翼翼地将那几只小猫放在厨房的地板上，屏住呼吸，时刻准备在必要时刻去拯救那几只小猫。
杰克走了过来，用鼻子挨个闻了闻那几只小猫，接着就坐在她们的中间，看着我。那几只小猫蜂拥而上，很高兴能够找到这么大的可以依偎的既温暖又毛茸茸的身体来取暖。那是杰克打开他的心扉接受这五只小猫咪的时刻，我不知道他是不是想起了当时自己也需要一个家。我蹲下来感谢他的爱心和怜悯，告诉他，我是多么感激他走进了我的生活。但是这些感激的话语等到以后再告诉他吧——杰克和他的小猫咪们已经睡着了。
From the beginning, Jake made his feelings clear about the subject of cats: they were best served on a plate.
Jake was our resident dog, a large dominant male, part Border collie and part Labrador retriever, with a little German shepherd thrown in. Jake was about two years old when he was adopted by us from the local animal shelter. He came into our lives shortly after I lost my beloved dog Martha to an unexpected illness. One day we went to the shelter, searching for a shaggy-haired female（like Martha）to bring into our home. Instead, we found Jake, a short-haired male, proud and silent in the middle of all that barking. We told the shelter worker that we wanted Jake to come home with us because we could sense he had a lot of magic inside of him. “That's great,” she said, “Just don't bring him back when he shows you that magic! ”
Jake immediately became a cherished member of our family. He loved watching the birds we attracted to our yard with numerous feeders and birdbaths. He played with the puppy next door and other dogs in the park, but made it extremely clear that cats would never be allowed on his property, chasing any feline that came too close.
One day, I found a litter of wild kittens in our woodpile. Although I had been a “dog person”all my life and had never had the privilege of sharing my life with a cat, my heart went out to these little fur balls. They were only about four weeks old, and had beautiful gray-striped bodies and large, frightened eyes. Their mother was nowhere in sight. I put them into a box and brought them inside. Jake heard the meowing and immediately began to salivate, drool, and pant. Our veterinarian told us, “Some dogs just don't accept cats under any condition.”
A year after the kitty experience, one day I looked outside onto the deck and saw Jake with his ears up and his head cocked sideways, staring at the ground. There at his feet was a tiny kitten, sitting very still. Using soothing words to try and keep Jake calm, I moved in closer, hoping to prevent the ugly attack I felt sure was coming. The kitten had badly infected eyes, and it probably couldn't see where it was or what was looming over it. But Jake just looked at the little creature, then looked up at me, and then back at the kitten. I heard some meowing, and discovered another kitten under the desk. So I scooped them both up into a box that would be their temporary home. I put the box in the garage and started making calls to all the animal people I knew, telling each the same story—my dog would never allow these cats into our home, and I needed to relocate them right away.
The next morning, we found three more kittens lying in a pile outside the door, huddled together for warmth. So I took them in and added them to the box. My heart was very heavy. Now we had five little kittens, all with infected eyes, which would be sent out into a world already crowded with unwanted little creatures. I spent the day making phone calls, only to be told over and over that no one had room for more critters. I knew I'd run out of options, so with tears in my eyes, I picked up the phone to make the call to the vet that would take the kittens out of my life forever. At the same moment, my eyes fell on Jake, calmly observing everything going on around him. There was no drooling, no panting, he didn't seem upset or anxious. I felt something was different.
So I became still and I sat. And I heard a voice in my heart telling me what to do. I called our veterinarian and made an appointment to bring the kittens in and get their eyes checked. On the way home from the doctor, I went to a pet store and bought my first litter box. I came home and brought the box of kittens back into the house. Jake was waiting. The time had come, so I carefully put the babies on the floor of the kitchen and held my breath, ready to come to the rescue if necessary.
Jake walked over and sniffed each of the kittens. Then he sat down in the middle of them and looked up at me. The kittens swarmed over him, happy to find a big, warm body of fur to curl up next to. That's when Jake opened his heart to the five little kittens and adopted them as his own. I wondered if he remembered a time when he, too, had needed a home. I went down to thank him for his love and compassion and tell him how grateful I was he'd come into my life. But it would have to wait until later—Jake and his kittens were fast asleep.
马略卡岛上的喂猫者 Pedro the Fisherman
鲍勃·特伦/Bob Toren这是我曾经听到过的最触动人心的一则有关狗狗的故事。
故事发生在西班牙群岛东部的马略卡岛的一个小峡谷。那里有一个英国人，他是一名职业潜水员，以开潜艇为生，并与一只西班牙猎犬生活在一起。他将潜艇固定在一个码头，那里是潜水的最佳位置。每当那个英国人潜水时，那只狗就会坐在码头焦急地等着主人回来。有一天，那个英国人在水中消失了，那只狗非常关心主人，于是跟在主人的后面也跳入水中。
在水下，那只狗看到一群鱼游了过去。他抓住一条鱼并把它带上码头。那个英国人既惊奇又高兴，并表扬了他。从那以后，那只狗总会随着主人一起潜水。在潜水的过程中，那只狗展现出他卓越的捕鱼技巧，给他的主人带来了相当大的乐趣。那个英国人将那只狗的技艺告诉了岛上的居民，他们都来到那个码头观看，对那只狗赞不绝口，还根据那个英国人的名字彼得，给他起了个名字——佩德罗。
有一天，那个英国人病了，没过多久就离开了人世。镇里的人都试图收养佩德罗，但是那只狗从不离开那片海滩，因为他害怕他的主人回来会找不到他。无论是烈日炎炎还是大雨倾盆，他始终在那片海滩上等着。人们试着去喂他，但最终都放弃了。除了主人，他不接受任何人的食物。最后，为了养活自己，佩德罗回去捕鱼了。
在同一座岛屿上还有一群流浪猫。他们贪婪地聚在一起看着佩德罗捕鱼，佩德罗把他想要的鱼挑出来带回海滩上吃掉，然后那群猫就会争夺他不吃的鱼。佩德罗一定也注意到了这一点，因为一天早晨，当佩德罗吃完他的鱼之后，又潜入水中，上来的时候带着一条大鱼，他将鱼放在沙滩上的那群猫的面前。然后他走开了，观察着那群猫。有一只黑猫显然比其他猫更有勇气靠近那条鱼，于是他叼起来就跑。从那以后，除了给主人守夜，这只狗好像认为喂养那些不幸者是自己的责任。因此，从那以后的每一天早晨，“渔夫”佩德罗都会将自己抓到的鱼与那群饥饿的马略卡岛上的猫共同分享。马略卡岛上的喂猫者
The most touching dog story I've ever heard.
The setting of the story is a little cove on the east side of the Spanish island of Mallorca. It was there that an Englishman, a professional diver, lived on his yacht with his dog, a springer spaniel. He had tied his yacht to a pier where diving conditions were ideal. Each time the Englishman made a dive, the dog sat anxiously on the pier, awaiting his return. One day the dog became so concerned when the Englishman disappeared into the water that he dove in after him.
Underwater, the dog saw a school of fish swim past. He grabbed a fish and carried it back to the pier. The Englishman, surprised and pleased, praised him. After that, the dog followed the man on his dives. In the course of the shared diving, the dog developed excellent fishing skills, to the man's considerable amusement. The Englishman told the island's residents of his dog's accomplishments, and they came to the pier to watch. Delighted, they began calling the dog Pedro, after Peter, the fisherman.
One day the Englishman became ill, and shortly thereafter, he died. Townspeople tried to adopt Pedro, but the dog would never leave the beach for fear he would miss his master's return. He waited on the beach through hot sun and driving rain. People tried to feed him, but eventually they gave up. He wouldn't accept food from anyone other than his master. Finally, to feed himself, Pedro went back to fishing.
It happened that on this same island there were a number of stray cats. Ravenous, they would gather to watch Pedro dive into the schools of fish, select the fish he wanted and bring it back to eat on the shore. Then the cats would fight over what the dog had left uneaten. The dog must have observed this, for one morning when Pedro had eaten his fish, he dove into the water again and came back up with a large fish, which he placed on the sand before the group of cats. Then he backed off and watched. One black cat, with greater courage than the others, approached the fish, grabbed it and ran. After that, in addition to keeping vigil for his master, the dog also seemed to consider it his duty to feed those less fortunate. For every morning thereafter, Pedro the fisherman shared his catch with the hungry cats of Mallorca.
友谊地久天长 Friendship Lasts Forever
佚名/Anonymous21年前，为了缓解我失去女儿的痛苦，丈夫把山姆送给了我。那是一只才8周大的德国刚毛犬。而后的14年里，山姆便和我形影不离。似乎任何事情都无法改变我们之间那种亲密无间的关系。
那时我和丈夫决定从纽约公寓搬到新泽西州的新家。住了一段时间后，邻居家的猫生了小猫，问我们是否想要一只。我们有些担心山姆会嫉妒，会因领地被侵占而有所行动。但我们还是决定冒冒风险，答应领养一只。
我们选了一只毛绒球一样贪玩的小灰猫。家里像添了只跑得飞快的走鹃。她到处追逐想象中的老鼠和松鼠，眨眼工夫就从桌子上跳到椅子上，因此我们给她取名叫“闪电”。
起初，山姆和闪电非常谨慎地相处着，始终保持着距离。但是，慢慢地，闪电逐渐开始跟着山姆上下楼，进厨房看他吃东西，进卧室看他睡觉。随着时光的流逝，他们俩成了形影不离的好朋友，吃住在一起。我逗一个玩时，另一个也加入进来。如果山姆冲着什么东西狂叫，闪电便会跑去看个究竟。我带一个出门，回到家时，另一个总会在门口等着。多年来一直如此。
接下来的日子，无任何预兆，山姆开始抽搐。经诊断是心力衰竭。除了放弃他，我别无他法。做出这个决定让我很痛苦，然而，这种痛苦与我把山姆留在兽医诊所而独自回家是无法相比的。这次，我没有办法让闪电迎接山姆了，也无法向她解释她为什么将永远见不到她的朋友了。
接下来的日子里，闪电像心碎了一样。她无法用言语向我们倾诉她的苦痛，但每当前门被人打开时，我都能看到她眼神中流露出的痛苦和失望；每当她听到狗叫时，我也可以看到她眼神中的希望。
日子一周周地过去了，闪电的悲痛看起来也减轻了好多。一天，我进卧室时，无意中向沙发旁的地板瞟了一眼，那里摆着几年前买的山姆的塑像。闪电一只前腿缠着他的脖子，惬意地躺在雕像旁，与她最要好的朋友睡在了一起。闪电与她最要好的朋友睡在了一起。
Twenty-one years ago, my husband gave me Sam, an eight-week-old schnauzer, to help ease the loss of our daughter. Sam and I developed a very special bond over the next fourteen years. It seemed nothing that happened could ever change that.
At one point, my husband and I decided to relocate from our New York apartment to a new home in New Jersey. After we were there awhile, our neighbor, whose cat had recently had kittens, asked us if we would like one. We were a little apprehensive about Sam's jealousy and how he would handle his turf being invaded, but we decided to risk it and agreed to take a kitten.
We picked a little, gray, playful ball of fur. It was like having a roadrunner in the house. She raced around chasing imaginary mice and squirrels and vaulted from table to chair in the blink of an eye, so we named her Lightning.
At first, Sam and Lightning were very cautious with each other and kept their distance. But slowly, as the days went on, Lightning started following Sam—up the stairs, down the stairs, into the kitchen to watch him eat, into the living room to watch him sleep. As time passed, they became inseparable. When they slept, it was always together; when they ate, it was always next to each other. When I played with one, the other joined in. If Sam barked at something, Lightning ran to see what it was. When I took either one out of the house, the other was always waiting by the door when we returned. That was the way it was for years.
Then, without any warning, Sam began suffering from convulsions and was diagnosed as having a weak heart. I had no other choice but to have him put down. The pain of making that decision, however, was nothing compared with what I experienced when I had to leave Sam at the vet and walk into our house alone. This time, there was no Sam for Lightning to greet and no way to explain why she would never see her friend again.
In the days that followed, Lightning seemed heart-broken. She could not tell me in words that she was suffering, but I could see the pain and disappointment in her eyes whenever anyone opened the front door, or the hope whenever she heard a dog bark.
The weeks wore on and the cat's sorrow seemed to be lifting. One day as I walked into our living room, I happened to glance down on the floor next to our sofa where we had a sculptured replica of Sam that we had bought a few years before. Lying next to the statue, one arm wrapped around the statue's neck, was Lightning, contentedly sleeping with her best friend.
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