A Snowflake in My Hand

What a moving account of someone on "the inside" of the world of veterinary medicine. If anyone cannot be touched at the love and compassion of these "angels of mercy" working in the field of animals who are not only ill, but know will never recover, I would hate to believe it. But they have the best kind of love of all - they know the one they love is not going to be around "forever". They are willing to take the chance of being hurt by losing someone they love. And, if we will admit it, that is true of all love. They go into this with their eyes wide open, as should we, knowing that the time we have with those we love is temporary, and we must cherish and make the most of that time.

The affecting cover painting drew me to buy this book, and it changed my life--I'm not exaggerating. I ended up requiring it for my college "Psychology of Loss" class and recommending it to my "People & Animals" class. Samantha Mooney grasps the preciousness and depth of each cat's life as she recalls the feline personalities she met on the animal cancer ward where she worked. Better than any professional manual I've read, Mooney's deceptively slim volume presents the issue of an animal's "quality of life," and its place at the core of deciding whether and when to euthanize a beloved, sick companion animal. Blending genuine emotion with her professional commitment to care and assistance, Mooney captures the fragility of these brief lives--like snowflakes melting in the warmth of the human hand that would save their beauty and uniqueness--these brief lives that share and change our own. I came to love every cat remembered in these pages as I read and reread them, particularly Fledermaus, Mooney's tiny, mysterious friend, who has affected Mooney most of all. I passionately recommend this gem of a book to any reader interested not only in cats and any of the animals with whom we share the world, but also anyone who must deal with questions about the meaning and quality of life, the possibilities and limits of medical care, and the ways we risk love--and face grief in the wake of loss. I treasure my dog-eared (!) copy of "A Snowflake in My Hand," and though I wish I knew Samantha Mooney personally, still I feel I have gotten to know her as well as the cats in her life, and to feel they are friends. As long as we keep our loved ones in memory, we do not lose them.

The author worked for 10 years on the eighth floor of New York's famous Animal Medical Center - the eighth floor housing the cancer clinic.All animal people will be deeply moved and inspired by Ms. Mooney's story of cats approaching a prolonged painful death. The little cats she came to know so well through their illnesses, will bring smiles amidst tears with the felines' courage, patience and spiritedness as they face each day living with a terminal illness. This small slim book is filled with warmth and sensitivity of inspiring lessons in human love, joy, loss, and triumph over grief.

I have not read the book only listened to the tape (the book is on back order). I and my wife have a deep and long time love for our 6 (yes six) cats and these tapes only served to not only deepen those feelings but to better understand how our lives are so much better because of them. I also work with students in the field of patient care (people patients)and will use this set of tapes to help them better understand those patients that they will be working with once out of school. If we are able to give unconditional love for others the way cats give there love.... oh what a wonderful world it would be.

Samantha Mooney is able to capture the heartfelt sorrow involved in working with terminal feline patients. Their unconditional love and the trust they place in humans, coupled with the tolerance for treatments that they must find uncomfortable but accept without complaint, is expressed so realistically that the reader will be feeling the pain of each loss along with Samantha. This book is truly written with compassion and love