Good-Bye, Neville
"Would you like to give the cats their dinner?" Stephen asked the girls as they sat at the dining-room table having their afternoon tea.
"I do!" Stephanie chimed.
"Me, too, Daddy!"
Stephen walked into the kitchen, took two cereal bowls from the cupboard, and took the box of cat kibble from the pantry larder. He shook the box and deposited some food into the bowls.
He handed the bowls to Katherine and Stephanie then walked over to the kitchen door and opened it. Sunlight poured in from the garden bathing the kitchen in bright yellow hues.
The girls scampered out the door and into the warm garden, calling for the cats.
Tiddles sat in the middle of the garden yowling woefully. The girls set the bowls on the doorstep and trotted over to where Tiddles sat.
"Daddy!" Stephanie screamed.
Stephen burst out the back door and ran to his crying daughters.
"Yes, Sweetie?" he called, running urgently.
"Daddy, look at Neville! He's sleeping and won't wake up. Tiddles is crying!"
There in the yard lay Neville, his brown form motionless in the grass. Stephen's heart sank.
"Oh, no," he said quietly, kneeling down and taking his girls in his arms, "He's not sleeping, Love."
They buried their faces in his chest and clung to him. He curled his arms around his daughters and pursed his lips thoughtfully.
A lump formed in Stephen's throat and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Stephen sat in the grass and gathered Neville to him. He was still warm and Stephen stroked his soft fur.
"Are you sad, Daddy?" Katherine asked through her tears.
"Yes, Sweetie, Daddy is sad. Neville was my friend. He helped me when I was very sad."
"Why were you very sad, Daddy?" Stephanie asked.
"Well, it was before Mummy and I were married. I loved her so much and I couldn't be with her and that made me sad."
"Why?" Katherine questioned.
"It's a long story," he began, "But Neville talked to me every day and he helped me to not be so sad."
The girls giggled through their tears. They had heard Neville "talk" many times and it always made them laugh when he did so.
"Well, girls, we should dig a hole and give him a proper send off."
Stephen stood up and walked over to the small shed in the corner of the garden to retrieve a spade. Grasping the spade in his hand, he strode to the far corner of the garden. He put the tip of the spade to the ground, and using his foot, thrust the head of the shovel into the earth. The dirt was hard and it took quite a bit of effort to get a suitable hole dug. Soon the grave was prepared.
"Poor Neville," cried Stephanie.
They followed as Stephen carried Neville to the hole that would be his final resting place. He grimaced as he set his deceased friend carefully into his grave. Stephen grabbed a handful of brown clay soil and dropped it into the hole. The girls did as their father.
"See ya, Neville. Thanks," Stephen choked as he shoveled soil into the hole.
He crouched down, still holding the spade and allowed his daughters to wrap their arms around him and comfort him. He kissed their tear-streaked faces, his eyes welling up.
Tiddles ran to the mound of fresh dirt and sat next to it, meowing.
"Tiddles is sad, too, Daddy," Stephanie pointed out.
"Yes, she is. She loved him," he said quietly.
The girls nodded at their father's words.
For the first time ever, Tiddles allowed Stephen to pet her without taking a swipe at him.