Pointing To Poignant Posts

I SCROLL UP AND DOWN on Facebook like I assume everyone else does, or half of us; Facebook now has three billion members. I experience the addictive qualities of it. The more time you spend logged onto Facebook, the more their artificial intelligence figures out how to please you, and please you it does, hoping to turn you into a good corporate customer, a totally overscreened zombie, or whatever their ultimate nefarious aim is; control, presumably. The longer I remain a member, the more the posts seem to be of interest to me, to reflect my personal values. I hope I don't end up a skeleton in front of a computer monitor, undiscovered for centuries. The thought of suddenly bailing out lurks. My favorite posts are those involving cats and dogs, the heart wrenching ones in which a pet "owner" has recently lost a beloved cat or dog, and is sharing his or her grief with the world. May the dear lord bless and keep all of the grieving pet owners. Everyone seems to agree that is is absolutely true that we never entirely recover from our various grievings; we adjust to them, keep them with us our entire lives, become assuctomed to their always being with us. Ultimately, we have only our memories to give us comfort. My two indoor cats are now going on ten years old. its hard to believe, and the fact that their time remaining with me is quite limited I find hard to accept. Now is the time to fully appreciate them, as never before. I recall when they were both mere kittens I took them to my mother's house to let her meet them. The two little dolls were sitting side by side on the bed inher guest bedroom, and she, my mother, was overwhelmed by their sheer cuteness, as anybody else would have been. She walked towards them, intending to give them afffection, but they were startled, since they did not know my mom well, and they bolted off the bed. Mom's feelings were obviously hurt. I had to do something, quick. I sat donw on the bed, and asked my mother to sit next to me. She did, and asked me what I wanted her to do next. Nothing, I told her. Let's jsut sit here, and wait for kittens to arrive. I knew they would soon come out from under the bed, and approach us. Cat people all know: you do not approach cats, you wait for them to approach you. Finally they did exactly that, and in fact paid special attention to my mom, another cat tendency; looking for new friends, sources of food and affection. The female, mandi, actually walked across mother's lap, and stood on her, then raised her tail and caressed my mon's neck with it. Very soft and gentle. Mother loved it, and smiled. Mom was in her earlly nineties at the time, and I knew there wouldnt be many more opportunities. There weren't, it turned out. But I will always remember her smile, and my sweet Mandi making it happen.