Howl of Mourning

[Rudiki]

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.

[silverdragonams]

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.

[BishopsMate]

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,

[Tremayne7]

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

[Jenai]

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.

[Redda]

*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.

[Xanthalas]

*Hug*

[miyafawyn]

*hugs*

[makelovelikewar]

*hugs*

[Rudiki]

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.

[Rali'vinee]

I'm so sorry for your loss, Rudiki.
*hugs*

[Zombie]

Never a nice time in someones life.

Be well.

[Tremayne7]

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.

[princessofjustice]

*gives a big hug*

[silverdragonams]

I am so sorry Rudi

[makelovelikewar]

*HUGS*

It's so hard losing them but having them was worth anything.

Sounds like she was a grand lady.

[Redda]

I am so sorry love.....I know how much she meant to you *hugs* I know you will miss your girl.

[thetamlyone]

*big hugs*

[ChukchiDog]

Huskavarna's Flexible Flyer. "Ace".

Siberian Husky, black and white, dark brown eyes, not a rocket scientist but oh, so gorgeous! And such a sunny, happy, loving boy.

Ace Cadet the Space Cadet. Jetski Cadetski. Flex. Flex Non-Mentallo. Cabana Boy. Friendly Fire. Brainless Boy. Mr. Perfect Ears.

He loved people. We have video of him as a baby puppy being let out into the yard; while the rest of the puppies in the litter scattered at once to the four winds like huskies do, he ran up to the people and followed them around. He followed me, too, all over the house for close to sixteen years, never sleeping more than a few feet away if he could help it. When I worked, he was always under the desk or chair with his head on my feet. He'd wedge himself between the tub and the toilet when I took a bath. He liked to sleep touching me. By preference he slept curled against my side, his chin settled in the hollow between my hip and my ribs, or his head on my chest, or my lap. He was never neurotic, though; he could safely be left at home and would wait quietly, but oh, the joy when I returned!

He was a great traveler; he went with me all over the U.S., on many cross-country camping trips, from coast to coast and up into Canada. Wherever he went he was a wonderful ambassador for his breed; always happy to be petted and loved on by strangers, always ready to give kisses. He was so very sweet-tempered, and he always meant so well, but in his younger days his enthusiasm got him in trouble; he didn't know his own size and strength, and he was always going: "Hey! Why are you holding your nose like that?", when he'd just whacked you hard in the face with an unexpected turn of his head, or: "Hey, what are you doing down there on the gound? Are you okay?", when he'd just bowled you over because he wasn't looking where he was going. Hence the nickname "Friendly Fire".

He was breathtakingly beautiful, but hereditary cataracts ended his show career early. He was very athletic; he could leap straight up to a ledge six feet off the ground from a standing start, as if he was levitating. He was a big boy, but not too big, with striking markings and smooth movement. He was put together right, and he was a joy to watch. He could have been a contender.

It was clear from the beginning that he was not, however, the sharpest tool in the box. Once, he spotted a plastic bag caught in the branch of a tree he was peeing on. He stopped in mid-pee, stared at the fluttering bag for a few moments, then lost interest. You could see him think: "Okay, that's over, now what was I doing? Oh, yeah, peeing on this tree!" So he peed on the tree again, and again he noticed the bag: "Wow; that's new! What is it? Oh, well, not very interesting...what was I doing, again? Oh, yeah, peeing on this tree!" He repeated this over a dozen times, noticing the bag anew, losing interest, peeing on the tree, noticing the bag again, while we counted and fell out laughing at him.

He was a decent sled dog; willing and happy; he enjoyed it but he did not have the fierce drive that many have. Despite his lack of intelligence he was a good lead dog when paired with Youbetcha, my shy, tiny, brilliant, driven, energizer bunny; she knew the commands and had the desire to run forever; he had the self-confidence and the desire to listen to me and please me. Bets was as small as huskies get, and Ace was as big as the standard allows; they made an odd couple but they did a good job together. He was even on the TV news in Canada one year.

Unlike most huskies, he loved to swim. My Dad has a swimming pool, and on his first visit there he was chasing the other dogs around the yard and figured he'd cut across the pool, not knowing it was water. After that, he'd just jump in and swim around whenever he felt like it, but he always had to be called to the shallow end and showed the steps when he was done; he never did learn how to get out on his own, so he was never allowed out there alone. On walks he would head into whatever body of water offered itself and go out as far as his flexi-leash allowed; he wasn't interested in wading; he wanted to swim.

I don't know how to end this. He told me it was time, and I honored that, and it hurts like hell. My good boy.

[makelovelikewar]

*Hugs* What a wonderful dog and friend. Thank you so much for sharing him with us.

[Tremayne7]

I have read your words and feel like I know him. I always asked you about him and now I can't stop the tears. My heart goes out to you and I know you miss him.

Hugs and love to you. Oberon came and sat in my lap earlier almost as if he knew too.

[Rali'vinee]

*Warm hugs, Rudiki, and heartfelt sympathy for your enormous loss.*

[Rudiki]

Akai was raised by Siamese cats and wanted another, so we contacted a Siamese cat rescue group. One e-mailed picture they sent showed a gangly half-grown cat with a long stripey tail. This kitten had been found roaming the streets of Virginia Beach. The caption said: "Is this your kitten?"

"No", I thought. It was one of those so-called 'flame point' cats, with orange tabby points instead of normal pretty Siamese color. I didn't like the color. Akai was wiser than I was. Akai said: "Yes."

From the first minute I saw her I knew she was perfect. She purred constantly, and wanted to be around people. Probably only part Siamese, she had the Siamese talkativeness but not the Siamese voice. She never offered to bite or claw, but she hissed a LOT. She was very friendly and loving; her hissing was more like commentary. We used to make fun of her: "...and *step* and hiss and *turn* and hiss and sit and *hiss*!"

The rescue was calling her Jewel. We named her Silmaril. Silly-Marilly, the Pink Fink, Pinkness, Pinkus Maximus, The Pink One. Our blonde: Most cats are smart. She wasn't, but she more than made up for it by her utter sweetness. Her blank look was so precious! We used to sing to her when she showcased her lack of intelligence: "'Cause I'm a blonde, yeah, yeah, yeah!"

She was the cutest cat I've ever known. Not the most beautiful, but definitely, hands down, the cutest. She had thick plushy cream-colored fur, and beautiful light blue eyes, and a round face and a round body and ghost-stripes on her face and legs, and a striped orange tail. We used to call her "caterpillar butt" when she fuzzed it, because it looked like a woolly bear caterpillar. She had toast-colored ears and the very tips of her paws were white, as if they had been dipped in milk. She used to drink water by dipping a paw in it repeatedly and licking the moisture off her paw each time. So...cute...

She was a notoriously bad mouser. The one night she did catch a mouse she brought it (still alive) for show and tell and accidentally let it go and lost it in the bed!

She was always the unsuspecting one when we had to catch the cats for anything; she never got a clue until it was too late. Once we were ready to leave and we couldn't find her. The house is tiny, and we turned it upside down several times. I knew she could not possibly have gotten outside, but I was getting ready to believe she must have, and was about to expand the search to the yard when she was found. She had not been hiding. She had been asleep in plain sight the whole time, on top of a high cabinet aganist a cream-colored wall, in a room that had been searched repeatedly. We only found her because she woke up and wondered why we were acting so weird.

She was such a good, good cat. Never any trouble; always a complete delight. She gave us so much joy every day of her life. That's more than worth the pain we're feeling now. We enter into these covenants knowing that they are going to end, but knowing that doesn't make this any easier.

[Tremayne7]

HUGS to both you and Akai. I dread the day I must give up Oberon forever. He's 13 years old and I've known him since the day he was born. I lost his brother at the age of 3 nearly 10 years ago this month and I still cry when I think about him.

Oberon is my cat. He curls up in my lap, purrs when I pick him up and love him. In short, he is my love cat. The cat I just adore.

Titania and Puck are awfully sweet cats too, but they are not mine. They do not like to be picked up and cuddled. But I still love them both too.

Again, my love to you both.

[davicurtistaggart]

awww! a certain tiny lover of kitties is very,very sad today.condolences and hugs to both,and the hope things may get better for you.