The first time I was dying, I found myself without any resources, with no one to teach me how to die . . . until I met a small kitten. Days before we were scheduled to travel to Minnesota for what we hoped would be a miracle but perhaps believed would not, my husband and I found a sickly little kitten in our neighborhood.  This tiny ball of black matted fur was lying at the side of the road, too weak to make any sound or much movement.  “What should we do with it,” we wondered. I felt strongly that … Continue reading Rascal