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Hermitage Letters

All Saints' Sunday

Today’s good news is that our heater is all mended and back to work! Two men came on Friday to replace the broken part and almost all of the beagles – especially George – helped them by barking and shouting directions! I think all of that help made their work go more quickly so they were only here for about 20 minutes.

And now we come to the end of Daylight Saving Time. Mom thinks this is a ridiculous change to make twice a year, and apparently Bessie and the other doggies do too, because they started barking almost an hour early today. Mom says a country that can manage to legalize pot should be smart enough to get rid of Daylight Savings, but as you probably know, not many people listen to Mom. As a cat I don’t really care about pot or Daylight Savings, but I always listen to Mom! I don’t always do what she says, but I always listen.

Today is All Saints’ Sunday – I bet all of the saints are marching around heaven having a great celebration. Our kitty Ellie died this morning, so she must be marching with the other saints in heaven, glad that we on earth are remembering them. Ellie had kidney disease – it is sad for us that she is gone to the Rainbow Bridge, but I bet she is running and playing there, waiting for all of us to catch up with her. Rest in peace, little Ellie, and one day we’ll all rise in glory!

I’ll write again soon,

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All Saints Day

So here’s the update on our heater – the problem was NOT beagle fur or beagle dust, and it wasn’t cat fur either . . .actually Mom had cleaned the filters the right way – but the real problem was a mouse! A mouse chewed right through the wire for the temperature sensor! So now we’re waiting for the company to order the part and then come to replace it . . . good thing we are supposed to have a few days of warm weather.

Today is November 1st, All Saints’ Day. It is the day for singing one of Mom’s favorite hymns – here are the words written by William Walsham How:
For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.

Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might:
thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
thou, in the darkness drear, the one true Light.

O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
and win, with them, the victor’s crown of gold.

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.

The golden evening brightens in the west;
soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on his way.

From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Alleluia, alleluia!

Mom says, “Yes, Gus, there are millions of animals in the countless host of saints!” I’m already named for a saint – St. Augustine – and I’m hoping to be a saint too, of course, I’ll be St. Gus!

I’ll write again soon,
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