Adopted at least twice before we met him, Mickey was close to 20 when he passed. So quick was his final sleep that he must have run across the rainbow bridge, prancing all of the way with no more pain. Tiny head no bigger than my palm, I miss you, Mickey boy, and your quiet antics. It was hard for me to let you go. One day, will you come to me when I call, “Mickey, you lil boy!”? Until then, enjoy the sunshine and green grass. Your last mama, Opal
Opal Rivas & Jason Rivas
