Howl of Mourning
Moderator: Top Team
-
- Wearer of the Holy Pants
- Posts: 2529
- Joined: Tue Mar 27, 2007 2:42 pm
- Location: Out and about!
Howl of Mourning
Hi, All,
If you understand what it is to lose a beloved pet, then give Akai a virtual hug the next time you see Soleis or Egil in game. Akai's cat, Auriel has died after a long illness. She was a wonderful sweet black kitty with a tail that could do semaphore. She once, if I have the story right, made an art installation involving a line of mostly toy mice, with one real mouse in the middle of the lineup. She could not have been more loved, or better taken care of. You know how I feel, Akai. I'm so sorry.
If you understand what it is to lose a beloved pet, then give Akai a virtual hug the next time you see Soleis or Egil in game. Akai's cat, Auriel has died after a long illness. She was a wonderful sweet black kitty with a tail that could do semaphore. She once, if I have the story right, made an art installation involving a line of mostly toy mice, with one real mouse in the middle of the lineup. She could not have been more loved, or better taken care of. You know how I feel, Akai. I'm so sorry.
13thHour : [Tell] *your alignment has long since passed any possible further move to 'sexy' due to reinventing the scale*
[url=http://wiki.ysgard.org/index.php?title=PCs:Lexy]Lexy on the Wiki![/url]
[url=http://wiki.ysgard.org/index.php?title=PCs:Lexy]Lexy on the Wiki![/url]
-
- Head DM
- Posts: 3891
- Joined: Wed Jul 07, 2004 1:33 pm
By their very nature, cats are selfish, egotistical, and independent to an extreme. Cats see most people as "the one who feeds me" or "my litterbox slave". Cats are takers.
But when you can build a relationship with a cat to the point where it thinks of you as one of its own - when a cat worries over you, feeds you and protects you - that is something special.
Akai, I am so sorry for your loss.
But when you can build a relationship with a cat to the point where it thinks of you as one of its own - when a cat worries over you, feeds you and protects you - that is something special.
Akai, I am so sorry for your loss.
Characters:
[url=http://wiki.ysgard.org/index.php?title=Sarakin_Fyne]Sarakin Fyne[/url]
www.anotherworlddesign.etsy.com
[url=http://wiki.ysgard.org/index.php?title=Sarakin_Fyne]Sarakin Fyne[/url]
www.anotherworlddesign.etsy.com
-
- Knight of the Holy Church of Annoyance
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 2:26 pm
- Location: Kansas
Hugs our Cats
If I could add a word of encouragement. We, me and my wife have had s very close relationship with our Cats.
So sorry for your loss.
We offer our condolences and encouragement. You obviously was adored by your Cat. I'm sure you made everyday a joy for your friend.
Best regards,
So sorry for your loss.
We offer our condolences and encouragement. You obviously was adored by your Cat. I'm sure you made everyday a joy for your friend.
Best regards,
-
- Honor Guard: Church of Pants
- Posts: 1484
- Joined: Sun Mar 05, 2006 5:08 pm
- Location: Richmond, VA USA
- Contact:
I have been blessed in my life to have memories of 6 wonderful cats, three of whom still own me, well, I am their Mom Cat. One of the 6 was not mine but a neighbor's cat when I was growing up and every time the cat saw me playing in the yard he ran over to me to give me love. His name was Bart and I still miss that cat to this day. I do not know what became of him.
Akai, my heart, thoughts and prayers go out to you. For I know what it is to lose a beloved furry friend whether it be a cat or a dog. They build a place in your heart and it is hard to lose a good friend.
We will be here for you either in game or not. If you have need of me as someone to just talk to, just call out. I will answer.
All my love to you this day,
Tremayne/Aria
Akai, my heart, thoughts and prayers go out to you. For I know what it is to lose a beloved furry friend whether it be a cat or a dog. They build a place in your heart and it is hard to lose a good friend.
We will be here for you either in game or not. If you have need of me as someone to just talk to, just call out. I will answer.
All my love to you this day,
Tremayne/Aria
Second Star to the Right and Straight on 'til Morning
"If life is a hankerchief, love is the embrodery that makes it more beautiful." - Alexis Dufresne Montjoie
"A Tyrite, a thief, a ranger and a preppy elf were sitting in a bar with a druidess..." -Aranel
"If life is a hankerchief, love is the embrodery that makes it more beautiful." - Alexis Dufresne Montjoie
"A Tyrite, a thief, a ranger and a preppy elf were sitting in a bar with a druidess..." -Aranel
Akai,
I am sory for your loss. I know how you feel. I At the moment I have three. my oldest will be 10 this summer. A few years ago I lost my most cherished one. He now lives in my heart and IG he is our kitty in our house Gothemer.
I am sory for your loss. I know how you feel. I At the moment I have three. my oldest will be 10 this summer. A few years ago I lost my most cherished one. He now lives in my heart and IG he is our kitty in our house Gothemer.
Quote:
Jenai even at near death is about as helpless as that kitten in Mithro. *Daemona*
Jenai even at near death is about as helpless as that kitten in Mithro. *Daemona*
*soft smile*
nothing any of us can say will help ease the pain Akai, just the thought of your loss brings tears to my eyes too, for your loss and for past loved kitties lost.
I don't know how they work their way into our hearts, but they do, and will miss them always.
*hugs* thinking of you, my friend.
nothing any of us can say will help ease the pain Akai, just the thought of your loss brings tears to my eyes too, for your loss and for past loved kitties lost.
I don't know how they work their way into our hearts, but they do, and will miss them always.
*hugs* thinking of you, my friend.
-
- Squire of the Holy Church of Annoyance
- Posts: 76
- Joined: Sat Jul 14, 2007 2:13 am
- Location: Lost on the Staircase.
-
- Wearer of the Holy Pants
- Posts: 2529
- Joined: Tue Mar 27, 2007 2:42 pm
- Location: Out and about!
Wintersong's Ladyhawke. "Isabeau".
Siberian husky girl-dog, silver and white, dark brown eyes, very intelligent, very self-possessed, very pretty.
Izzy. Izzy-Ma-Boodle. The Poodle. Poodle-Girl. The Boodle-Poodle. The Princess. Noko-Marie ("I'm Noko-Marie. Don't mess with me.")
She earned her title of The Alpha Bitch From Hell; the only thing she had to say to other dogs was "Bow down to me or die!" She was excellent at the "See these?" maneuver, which consists of suddenly baring the teeth and displaying the pearly whites, particularly the canines. She could alternately snarl at other dogs in the household and smile at the humans, switching her expression back and forth with lightning speed.
My mother's last dog. My father's pride and joy; he spoiled her rotten. She'd always behave with Mom and me, but she knew she could get away with stuff with Dad. When I'd take her for dogsledding trips, especially the two weeks in Canada each year, she'd always have her nose out of joint the first day or two, like the kid in the "Camp Granada" song. She could not believe, at first, that she was being treated like a common dog, sleeping in a straw-filled dog-box on the truck instead of a bed. We used to joke, when she got home, that she was Sooo glad Dad paid the ransom to me, the kidnapper. She was a decent sled dog; she had fun.
We used to joke that the previous pack Alpha was a Churchill-type leader, but when Isabeau finally gained that long-cherished position it was all Hitler, baby! She was a swaggering bully. She taught poor Ace the "You Sit in the Corner Game". This is how it worked: He sat in the corner. She did whatever she wanted around the house. Eventually he'd get bored and start wondering why he was sitting in the corner, and he'd get up and take a step or two, and from wherever she was in the house she'd come rushing at him with fangs exposed, saying "I thought I told you to stay in the corner!"
With people, though, she was wonderful, as most Siberians are. She never even ever growled. You could do anything with her. She hated to be picked up and carried but she put up with it, especially from Dad, the man she loved. She'd hop up on the bed at night, stretch out beside Dad, and give Mom that "I don't know where you're going to sleep" look. But Mom loved that when Isabeau had to go out at night she woke up Dad instead of her. Isabeau used to bury chew-bones in the bed, too, covering them over with imaginary dirt with her nose.
Her signals were subtle; a significant look instead of a bark, a shift of position instead of the imperious paw. She was not into giving kisses; the occasional single little dry lick was all she ever did. She was not, however, undemonstrative. She loved to be petted, and she remembered family. She left the house of her breeder at eight weeks old, but all her life, when she saw that woman she gave her the effusive greeting reserved for no-one but family; the wildly wagging tail, the zooming in circles, the jumping up to be hugged.
She was there for my Dad when my Mom died; she kept him going. she knew he needed her, and she stepped up. For that, alone, I'd love her.
I could write a lot more, but I'm stopping now. This grief is the price we pay, but the price is worth it. It was a good fifteen years.
Siberian husky girl-dog, silver and white, dark brown eyes, very intelligent, very self-possessed, very pretty.
Izzy. Izzy-Ma-Boodle. The Poodle. Poodle-Girl. The Boodle-Poodle. The Princess. Noko-Marie ("I'm Noko-Marie. Don't mess with me.")
She earned her title of The Alpha Bitch From Hell; the only thing she had to say to other dogs was "Bow down to me or die!" She was excellent at the "See these?" maneuver, which consists of suddenly baring the teeth and displaying the pearly whites, particularly the canines. She could alternately snarl at other dogs in the household and smile at the humans, switching her expression back and forth with lightning speed.
My mother's last dog. My father's pride and joy; he spoiled her rotten. She'd always behave with Mom and me, but she knew she could get away with stuff with Dad. When I'd take her for dogsledding trips, especially the two weeks in Canada each year, she'd always have her nose out of joint the first day or two, like the kid in the "Camp Granada" song. She could not believe, at first, that she was being treated like a common dog, sleeping in a straw-filled dog-box on the truck instead of a bed. We used to joke, when she got home, that she was Sooo glad Dad paid the ransom to me, the kidnapper. She was a decent sled dog; she had fun.
We used to joke that the previous pack Alpha was a Churchill-type leader, but when Isabeau finally gained that long-cherished position it was all Hitler, baby! She was a swaggering bully. She taught poor Ace the "You Sit in the Corner Game". This is how it worked: He sat in the corner. She did whatever she wanted around the house. Eventually he'd get bored and start wondering why he was sitting in the corner, and he'd get up and take a step or two, and from wherever she was in the house she'd come rushing at him with fangs exposed, saying "I thought I told you to stay in the corner!"
With people, though, she was wonderful, as most Siberians are. She never even ever growled. You could do anything with her. She hated to be picked up and carried but she put up with it, especially from Dad, the man she loved. She'd hop up on the bed at night, stretch out beside Dad, and give Mom that "I don't know where you're going to sleep" look. But Mom loved that when Isabeau had to go out at night she woke up Dad instead of her. Isabeau used to bury chew-bones in the bed, too, covering them over with imaginary dirt with her nose.
Her signals were subtle; a significant look instead of a bark, a shift of position instead of the imperious paw. She was not into giving kisses; the occasional single little dry lick was all she ever did. She was not, however, undemonstrative. She loved to be petted, and she remembered family. She left the house of her breeder at eight weeks old, but all her life, when she saw that woman she gave her the effusive greeting reserved for no-one but family; the wildly wagging tail, the zooming in circles, the jumping up to be hugged.
She was there for my Dad when my Mom died; she kept him going. she knew he needed her, and she stepped up. For that, alone, I'd love her.
I could write a lot more, but I'm stopping now. This grief is the price we pay, but the price is worth it. It was a good fifteen years.
13thHour : [Tell] *your alignment has long since passed any possible further move to 'sexy' due to reinventing the scale*
[url=http://wiki.ysgard.org/index.php?title=PCs:Lexy]Lexy on the Wiki![/url]
[url=http://wiki.ysgard.org/index.php?title=PCs:Lexy]Lexy on the Wiki![/url]
-
- Squire: Church of Pants
- Posts: 711
- Joined: Sun Dec 17, 2006 10:30 pm
- Contact:
-
- Honor Guard: Church of Pants
- Posts: 1484
- Joined: Sun Mar 05, 2006 5:08 pm
- Location: Richmond, VA USA
- Contact:
Oh, darlin' I'm so sorry.
It is hard to lose one we love whether they are two legged or four legged. I still remember the day I had to make the decision to put Prospero, Oberon's brother to sleep. That will be 7 years in November and it still hurts thinking about it. Oberon will be 10 years old the 19th of this month and it hurts to think about the fact I lost his brother.
My love and my heart go out to you.
HUGS from me and my three furry babies.
It is hard to lose one we love whether they are two legged or four legged. I still remember the day I had to make the decision to put Prospero, Oberon's brother to sleep. That will be 7 years in November and it still hurts thinking about it. Oberon will be 10 years old the 19th of this month and it hurts to think about the fact I lost his brother.
My love and my heart go out to you.
HUGS from me and my three furry babies.
Second Star to the Right and Straight on 'til Morning
"If life is a hankerchief, love is the embrodery that makes it more beautiful." - Alexis Dufresne Montjoie
"A Tyrite, a thief, a ranger and a preppy elf were sitting in a bar with a druidess..." -Aranel
"If life is a hankerchief, love is the embrodery that makes it more beautiful." - Alexis Dufresne Montjoie
"A Tyrite, a thief, a ranger and a preppy elf were sitting in a bar with a druidess..." -Aranel
-
- Squire: Church of Pants
- Posts: 614
- Joined: Sun Nov 13, 2005 5:51 pm
- Location: Maryland, USA GMT-5
- Contact:
-
- Head DM
- Posts: 3891
- Joined: Wed Jul 07, 2004 1:33 pm