Back in December 1989, a tiny kitten, born no more than 6 weeks earlier, was abandoned in the bush and left to die. She was found a day or two later in a pitiful state and taken to a shelter for abandoned animals. A few weeks later a family, the parents and a 2-year-old little boy, went to that shelter to seek a kitten to add to their family. They were told about Puss, and there was “just something” about her that said she was meant to be theirs. We were that family, and we took her home where she became a greatly loved and treasured member of our family.

The most outstanding thing about Puss was her very sweet and gentle nature, and the affection she had for her three humans. She owned us; we were hers. Far from being stand-offish, as many cats are, this one was not - or rather, not with us. She would reach out with her paw to touch gently, just to say she would like our attention. The next most outstanding thing was that Puss never bit or scratched anyone. On a couple of occasions she did cuff her 2-year-old playmate with a paw when he clearly deserved it, just as though he might have been one of her own kittens had she been allowed to have babies, but never with her claws out. If he really got too much for her, she simply left the scene. How much she had to teach humans!

Puss had her hilarious moments, and she gave us much entertainment and laughter. A couple of stories can be found here.

Puss died last night. She was 19½ years old, a member of our family for a substantial length of time. On Wednesday afternoon she was fine. By late Wednesday evening we noticed her right eye was swollen, weeping, and looking rather ghastly. In fact it looked as though it was protruding and not in alignment. We took her to the vet first thing on Thursday morning and she was admitted to hospital and given IV pain relief pending a general anaesthetic for investigative procedures. The most likely diagnosis at her advanced age was a brain tumour behind the eye. On Friday a decision had to be made. Puss would not recover and she was suffering. It would be merciful to “let her go”.

How distressing it is to say these goodbyes! I cradled her in my arms as the vet gave her some sedation to make her a little groggy, telling us that she would be aware I was holding her and that we were there. When I gave the nod he injected the overdose of phenobarbitone. I felt her little body go limp, then the last little twitch, and after a minute the vet listened to her heart and told us she had gone. We are left with that awful aching emptiness now, and the intermittent waves of grief. I had not anticipated that the loss of a pet would have affected me so much, as it has for each of her three humans. Puss leaves quite a hole for all of us. She just isn’t there when you expect her to be, and I catch myself taking her into account when there is no longer the need to do so.

Some of my friends like the story of Rainbow Bridge, said to be the place where pets go after death to wait and greet their owners when their own time has come. I have wrtten about Rainbow Bridge, from a Christian perspective and in relation to revealed truth, elsewhere on Judah’s Journal. I wrote back then that I don’t know if this story is true or not. I have no way of knowing for certain. It is a kind sentiment, and it presents an image not unlike one that is commonly held of Heaven - a place where all is well. There is an assumption that such a place exists for animals, and an assumption that the animals we love will indeed go there. But I am not so sure of the level of comfort I would personally derive from a story that came from “author unknown” and must be regarded as fantasy unless we can find some truth to support its claim to be otherwise.

Right now, having just loss our beloved family pet, I can say that I am not particularly comforted by this story, but what does mean far more to me is the message from a Christian friend, DKC, the gracious host of this website. What he told me was this: One thing I know, God loves us and He is compassionate. And he loves and cares for all His creatures. Whatever the reality is, it will be better than anything we could imagine ourselves. And we can imagine some pretty good things.

“But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.”

“Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.”

Those two verses are 1 Corinthians 2:9 and Ephesians 3:20,21 respectively.

Given a story from human imagination, and revealed truth from a compassionate and loving God whose love for us is greater than we can ever imagine, I think I know which I believe more than the other, and which is therefore of real comfort and promise. Thank you, DKC, for reminding me of those verses. I do not know if Rainbow Bridge exists, but I most certainly know that those verses are worthy of leaning upon when such a loss is so keenly felt.

It seems like only yesterday! It was summer… those long hot carefree days that, in my childhood fantasy, were destined to last an eternity. We scrambled all over this large dome of rock, knowing every pothole, every safe hollow in which to place a foot and a hand. We would watch from above as the tide turned and the water rushed into the large caverns below, rush out again to regroup and come back, each time pushing in a little further, hitting the rock to throw up fountains of spray, dousing our eagerly peering faces. We would laugh at each other, taste the salt on our lips and brush tangles of wet hair out of our eyes. Summer days were meant to last forever… just as the sea and the salt and the sand and the sun would surely do so as well.

Cave Rock, Sumner Beach, Christchurch, New Zealand. This watercolour sketch was painted by artist, Peter G. Leitch. There is no copyright mentioned on the reproduction greeting cards that remind me of those days long ago. I hope if Peter should see his handiwork here that he will know it is only because I treasure it enough to draw attention to it, and similarly to the one below of Shag Rock, marking the other end of the sandy expanse where I played my eternal childhood summer days.

Shag Rock, Sumner Beach, Christchurch, New Zealand. There we waded sandal-footed in rock ponds, squatting in them getting our bottoms wet, searching for crabs and starfish, or picking out fascinating shells, the discarded little houses of various other sea creatures. The shags would perch high upon the rock and watch, no doubt hoping we would turn over and leave for them some tasty titbit for their tea.

Time moves on. Now another generation of children assume our places, engage our activities, roll over the countless endless days of the calendar as I and my brothers give them up to fond memories. The sea rolls in and out of those caverns under the dome just as before. The rock pools fill and empty, and fill up again, just as before. The shags and gulls are still perching there - or their descendants are - and waiting patiently for the offering of another snack.

Does anything last eternity? Even memories fade, presumably one day to be extinguished by that Grim Reaper who appears scythe in hand as our final heartbeat beats and in doing so has gone. Time moves on without us. And we move on into timelessness, into the realms of eternity.

Any frequent visitor here could rightly predict my own belief about what exists beyond, one that was long ago revealed to us. There is indeed an eternity and how we live our lives here really does matter, and matters greatly. No moments are truly lost, no words or thoughts or deeds. We meet with them again, and they will sift and measure us against our Creator’s yardstick. Would you seek justice? None of us will receive injustice at His hand, but think carefully if it is justice that you seek. As idyllic as those childhood memories pose themselves, even as supposedly “innocent” children playing on the sand, laughing at the surf and at the shags, we must surely know deep within us that our souls were not truly free at all, not even in entertaining our very best desires. Who wanted the best view, the best foothold, the longest turn, the most shells, the best shell, the only crab, the biggest starfish, the dry towel, the unbroken bucket, the shared spade, and not to go home just yet when we should? Those who know that they were never ever truly innocent, who know they have always had a natural inclination toward self gratification and promotion at the expense of others… they will not be so keen on justice when eventually their eternity comes face-to-face with them. No matter my own very best memories such as these of Sumner Beach, rather than justice it will be mercy that I seek, and there is only one Redeemer given us in whom that will be found.

After 4 years of the same, it was surely time for Judah’s Journal to suffer a little redecorating. Those who have visited before, and remembered anything about what they saw, may notice a new header photo, new clickable buttons, and a new appearance to many of the other pages of Judah’s Site.

The Seaward Kaikouras are the eastern aspect of the Southern Alps where they extend down to the rocky coast line in the vicinity of a little fishing village known as Kaikoura. It is very much on the tourist route, a place where folk love to dine on freshly caught crayfish and go out in boats, or up in light aircraft, for a spot of whale watching. It is a very scenic part of the country, and a favourite place of mine. I love the Southern Alps, the mountainous backbone of the South Island of New Zealand. As a South Islander, I like to claim those majestic Alps as my own. Of course they are not… but I do feel as though both they and I belong to each other in some fundamental way. The photo which forms the header for Judah’s Journal, and also for Judah’s Site and each of the website pages, is one that I took recently of those same mountains. I am no climber, but they certainly are great to admire from where I stood with my camera.

Check out the other pages here, especially Judah’s Crafts, by using the clickable buttons at the very bottom of this Judah’s Journal page. Some redecorating has already taken place, but there is still more to come yet.