Patsy

(((Xan and family))) I said on the other thread, but it bears remembering--The Bridge has fields and fields of dandelion that re-grow after having been eaten.

Imagine--another Mutti. My Mutti came to us as "Moogey" which simply had to be changed--but it needed to be something close. A dear friend of mine suggested Mutti, thinking of Ricardo Mutti, orchestra conductor at LaScala Opera House.

Oh no! Speechless, crushed for you and yours and all of us who adored her and watched the story unfold from the very beginning. Sweetie, I have it on best authority that The Bridge had fields and fields of fresh dandelions . . . . snarf to your heart's content.

I lost my black and white tuxedo kitty Mutti ("Moo-tee") yesterday on her 10th birthday. She'd been off her food. My wonderful vet took x-rays, didn't like what she saw, and did an emergency exploratory. When they came for me wayyy too quickly, I knew the news must have been very very bad. And it was--cancer all over her liver and environs, plus something on top of the cancer that Doc Carol had never seen before--granules of some sort. Trust Mutti to be slightly not-normal--it was the story of her life. I told Doc Carol to take whatever samples/whatever she needed to figure out what was going on--in the hope that might help some other kitties some day. She left us on the table, of course. We know her birth date since her mother produced her litter in a cardboard box at the local NAPA store where our next door neighbor's oldest daughter worked. Fast forward two years and she was removed from what had turned out to be an abusive home and was back next door. We adopted her and the rest was slightly neurotic history. She spent her first couple weeks with us under one of two desks--desks which only cleared the floor by no more than 3"! I had no idea a 2 year old cat could fit under there! I felt a little silly in the morning when I would change out her food and water dishes (specially closen to be very squat dishes, of course) and push the new ones under whichever desk she was under that day . . . . but eventually she decided that we were truly a safe place and she came out. To the end of her days she hated loud noises and despised fireworks, she'd nip without warning if something got to be "too much" for her, and woe onto anyone who ever tried to touch her blindingly-white tummy. She was happiest lying in a patch of sunlight or on my tummy when I'm reading. In winter she'd sleep on top of me at night--when the weather got warmer, it was the end of the bed for her. She had a lovely gravelly purr and felt that no newspaper should be read without a kitty's head protruding toward you under the bottom edge. Enjoy your sunbeams, chase the birdies, and eat to your heart's content, sweetie. Your mama misses you terribly.

Renewing white light for thinking processes as well as The Wabster!

Definitely morbid--but hard to KNOT think under the circumstances! Renewing the white light!

That's tomorrow! Renewing the white light.

When you feel able, could you share some pics of your beloved Seymour?

Didn't Loca always have a "yen" for the young studly ones? Hugs to you.

Ack!!! Well, we all knew there's nothing average/normal/routine about The Wabster . . . . but that said, she's on the ND nightly candle. Perhaps Essence of Dandelions until you see the vet?

Boy, she's taking heroic measures to stick with you, isn't she? Maybe . . . . ??????????

No useful advice, but good thoughts for you and your hound from a proud College of Wooster graduate ('64).

Gum those bunnies, sweetie, and run free and fast.

Oof-da indeed! Hope he's doing better this morning Patsy--who lives in Scandihoovian country in NE North Dakota.

"a force of nature" . . . . so true. My condolences on your loss and that of the entire GT family.

Send your family a sign, sweetie, then go back to running free and fast, eating anything and everything, and wallowing in unlimited stuffies.

Still blocked because it "contains content by EMI" . . . . but big hugs to you.

Fly healthy to the Bridge, Sir Alix. It's obvious from your memorial you were a dearly loved critter. I agree with everyone--the stew pot shot is a classic.

You're in on the ND candle, Avril . . . . hang in there, sweetie.

Looking fine! Thanks for the update.

Definitely still remembered!

Fly high and free, sweetie--and send your family a sign, 'k?

Sending cool/calm/collected thoughts your way!

My condolences to all of you and your pack. Big hugs.

Run free, sweetie--and sneak up on your mom one of these days and get her behind the knees!