Serendipity ... (part three) ...

My dictionary, circa 1976, gives the definition of serendipity as ... "the faculty of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for".

I have since, of course, looked up current definitions on Wikipedia, some of which include meanings that are very similar, such as: ... "the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something else entirely" ... "an aptitude for making discoveries by accident" ... "an instance of making such a discovery".



My second husband was 'allergic' to cats, therefore we could not have one. After our divorce, however -- and almost imMEDiately -- I went in search of a cat.

I found one. She was not found 'by accident' or 'while looking for something else entirely' ... and, when I did find her, I named her Serendipity. I thought she was my "unexpected pleasure".


And, truly, she was. She filled my heart with love.


She was Queen of the hill/rooftop, she followed me wherever I went (to the pool? -- she was right behind me all the way. for a walk? Ditto. if I drove away? -- she would not run behind. Rather, she would wait patiently for me to come back and then, hearing the sound of my vehicle's engine, greet me from wherever she was at the time with just a humongous meow [she was a tremendous talker!]).


She was just a wonderful companion and friend.


She was a 'one-person-kitty', or so I thought, until Butch appeared on the scene. Butch was the only other person I ever met that Serendipity seemed to be really attached to. She not only tolerated him, she liked him!


Serendipity died on Valentine's Day in 1995 ... thirteen years ago, for crying out loud! It seems like just yesterday. I couldn't even beGIN to get over my grief until I had composed a poem. ... ... ... here it is ... ... ...

My Valentine


Words cannot begin to describe how I feel
Now that my pretty one's insides have begun to congeal.

I cannot stop petting her -- her fur is still so soft
I suppose I'll continue to find fleas until summer -- even in the loft.


I hated to leave her this morning ... she wanted to lay in the doorway -- ajar
(I guess) so she could see what she had (seems like just yesterday) chased from afar.


Queen of the fence, rooftop, trees
She went exactly as she pleased!


Now my lovely has died on my bed, her head near my pillow, her mouth open, quite dead.


I don't want her to awaken ... there must have been pain
I wouldn't want her to have to go through all that again.


Tears shed on my bed. I've dug the hole, but will have to make it deeper ...
Can't stand the thought of yukky bugs and God knows what all getting at my beautiful sleeper.

Oh, Serendipity! My unexpected pleasure!
You were such a wonderful treasure!


As I said, it's been thirteen years. I never replaced her with another kitty. As a matter of fact, I never even thought about the possibility of replacing her!

I was never home as a taxicab driver, for one thing. Well, I guess that's the main thing! Today, however, as of this writing, I am having second thoughts.