The tale of Cinnamon and Shadow told by Jeanne

CINNAMON
Cinnamon was technically my mother’s dog, but I was like the second mother to her. A lady I used to work for had a miniature poodle named Ginger, and when my mother saw her, she wanted one. When Ginger’s breeder had some more puppies, my mother got one. Amazingly, Cinnamon and Ginger had the exact same markings, only Cinnamon was a little bigger. I suppose that’s not all that surprising since their parents were the same, just from different litters (about 2 years apart).
Cinnamon was the first dog we ever had. We’d only had cats before. When we got Cinnamon, we still had one cat, Gizmo (we lost him a few years later at the age of 19). It was a learning experience having Cinnamon, but she was a joy to have. She was such a sweetheart, always wanting to be around you. She got along well with our cats, as well, and especially with Shadow as they practically grew up together.
Cinnamon loved going for walks and car rides and playing with her squeaky toys. She learned a few basic tricks, and I could get her stand on her hind legs and spin for a treat. She didn’t quite get the hang of fetch, though. She’d run and get the toy but when she’d return she’d run by you with it instead of releasing it. 🙂
Cinnamon was such a friendly dog who loved to meet and make friends with people and other dogs, and enjoyed to going to the “Blessing of the Animals” service at my mother’s church. She also loved to lay by you on the couch or sleep next to you on the bed. She was good company for my mother after my brother and I moved out, as well.
Sadly Cinnamon crossed the Rainbow Bridge on February 21, 2014 at the age of 12 years after a large, previously undiagnosed tumor on her abdomen got the better of her. For a few months towards the end, she started using the floor, stopped going for walks like usual (though that might have been in part due to being attacked by a Boxer during a walk and again by another dog at church a week later – I think they may have sensed she was sick) and jumping on the couch or bed to lay next to you. When my mom came home one day and Cinnamon struggled to get out of her bed and greet her at the door and was wheezing, we knew there was something really wrong and she was rushed to the vet where they found the tumor.

SHADOW
Shadow was found as a kitten by the sister of a lady I worked with. He was found in a church parking lot, I believe. My coworker’s sister wasn’t able to keep him at her apartment, so my coworker brought him to the office. I took one look at him and couldn’t turn him away. I’d lost my cat Smokey a couple of years before to feline diabetes and I was missing her. Cinnamon had also joined the family the year before.
Shadow was such a sweet boy. He would follow me everywhere I went, which was one reason I named him Shadow, besides the obvious fact he was a black cat. He was a sweetheart who liked to climb in my lap and reach up to lick my earlobes while kneading my shoulders. He got along rather well with Cinnamon as well. He did have a habit of liking to jump up on the dining room table, and we’d call him down for it, and Cinnamon seemed to pick up on that and started barking at him when he’d do it as if to call him down, and Shadow would get down.
Shadow spent part of his time outdoors, and was a fairly good hunter. We’d often find “presents” left outside, either birds, mice, rats, or squirrels. Though whether they were all from him or if some of them were from the stray cats in the area, we were never quite sure. Shadow never wandered very far, though, only going to the neighbors or across the street. We even got Cinnamon to go outside and call Shadow to come home – she’d go out and bark for him, and he’d come home when he heard her, possibly knowing it was safe. I think he relied on her a lot for keeping stray cats and other dangerous critters away so he’d be safe outside.
Shadow crossed the Rainbow Bridge from a lymphoma on Sept. 30, 2016, a month after turning 14 years old, and I miss him a lot. He was the sweetest cat, and anyone who thinks black cats are bad luck are missing out on a lot.
This tale was shared by Jeanne, a fellow blogger who participated in “Tuesday Tale-What Is Your Pet’s Tale?”. If you would like to participate, click the link for details.
Thank you Jeanne for sharing this story with us. Losing a pet is losing a family member. So sorry for your losses. I remember you posting about Shadow when he passed. It sounds like Cinnamon and Shadow were great pals!
To find out more about Jeanne, you can visit her blog Jeanne Owens, author.
You can find more tales on the “Tuesday Tales” page of my blog.
(Others who have sent me their tales, thank you! I WILL be using it in one of the future “Tuesday Tales.” I NEED MORE tales! If you haven’t shared yet, please consider doing so. Send them to me at animalsarefeelingbeingstoo@q.com)
Thank you so much for sharing their tale 🙂
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Thank you! 🙂
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Reblogged this on Jeanne Owens, author and commented:
My sweet angels Cinnamon and Shadow have their story featured today 🙂
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What a sweet story. We had several black cats growing up – they were great cats.
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I agree with Jeanne and I think it’s all non-sense. Cats are cats, no matter what their color. 🙂
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