Something to be thankful for

Flinx went into the crawl space under my neighbor's house to die. He
probably would have been happy to die there. It was warm place on a cold
night; he was comfortable resting on a fiberglass insulating blanket.
He started crying when I carried him out and didn't stop until he had
settled into my lap in the vet's waiting room. This was the last time
he purred.

At first the news was bad. I went to dinner and came back. Then the
news was much, much worse. I went home to bed, the vet called at 5:30
Thanksgiving morning. Flinx was "vocalizing", she said; the treatment
wasn't working, she said. She used the word "excruciating" several
times. She wanted to keep talking but I told her I was coming back.

They were all women in the vet's office. One of the younger techs even
started crying when I cried. Actually, I tried to say something but it
just came out as really loud, uncontrollable sobs. I had to whisper
after that.

So I told them to unwrap his tail, because he likes to twitch his tail
when I talk to him. I asked for a brush, and I held him in my lap and
talked to him and brushed him but he didn't stretch or purr or twitch
his tail because he was too drugged up.

The doctor who'd watched over Flinx through the night told me her shift
was over at 7:30. "Before you go..." I whispered.

At breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that I got to hold him and
talk to him and tell him I loved him when he died. And that was, after
all, something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

http://www.spiretech.com/~guynoir/livestock/flinx.JPG
http://staff.jccc.net/krabas/new_page_9.htm




--
John Kimmel


I think it will be quiet around here now. So long.

My sorrows to you and your family. Purrs and hugs
We lost our 19 year old precious this past week. I think we both have
something to be thankful for. We had a dear friend touch our life if ever
so briefly and give us memories we will always cherish.



Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet
goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run
and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and
comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and
vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just
as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each
miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops
and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body
quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green
grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet,
you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy
kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and
you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from
your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
*** " And nothing but peace and the love of your Dear Friends"****

Author Unknown

This should be added ***
****"Always remember We will be there even if you can't see me. We are
always watching and Waiting. That cool puff of air you feel, that fleeting
touch , the feeling you have that I was walking across your bed, that moment
you swear you can hear us, that flicker of movement out of the corner of
your eye. Is just our way of saying I love you and I am with you always
even in the darkest time We Will Always Be there"***

Author
Matthew ( NO MORE RETAIL )



"guynoir" wrote in message
...
Flinx went into the crawl space under my neighbor's house to die. He
probably would have been happy to die there. It was warm place on a cold
night; he was comfortable resting on a fiberglass insulating blanket.
He started crying when I carried him out and didn't stop until he had
settled into my lap in the vet's waiting room. This was the last time
he purred.

At first the news was bad. I went to dinner and came back. Then the
news was much, much worse. I went home to bed, the vet called at 5:30
Thanksgiving morning. Flinx was "vocalizing", she said; the treatment
wasn't working, she said. She used the word "excruciating" several
times. She wanted to keep talking but I told her I was coming back.

They were all women in the vet's office. One of the younger techs even
started crying when I cried. Actually, I tried to say something but it
just came out as really loud, uncontrollable sobs. I had to whisper after
that.

So I told them to unwrap his tail, because he likes to twitch his tail
when I talk to him. I asked for a brush, and I held him in my lap and
talked to him and brushed him but he didn't stretch or purr or twitch his
tail because he was too drugged up.

The doctor who'd watched over Flinx through the night told me her shift
was over at 7:30. "Before you go..." I whispered.

At breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that I got to hold him and
talk to him and tell him I loved him when he died. And that was, after
all, something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

http://www.spiretech.com/~guynoir/livestock/flinx.JPG
http://staff.jccc.net/krabas/new_page_9.htm




--
John Kimmel


I think it will be quiet around here now. So long.

I'm so sorry to hear about Flinx. He knew he was loved, right to the
end. He was a lucky cat.

Take care,

Rhonda

guynoir wrote:

Flinx went into the crawl space under my neighbor's house to die. He
probably would have been happy to die there. It was warm place on a cold
night; he was comfortable resting on a fiberglass insulating blanket.
He started crying when I carried him out and didn't stop until he had
settled into my lap in the vet's waiting room. This was the last time
he purred.

At first the news was bad. I went to dinner and came back. Then the
news was much, much worse. I went home to bed, the vet called at 5:30
Thanksgiving morning. Flinx was "vocalizing", she said; the treatment
wasn't working, she said. She used the word "excruciating" several
times. She wanted to keep talking but I told her I was coming back.

They were all women in the vet's office. One of the younger techs even
started crying when I cried. Actually, I tried to say something but it
just came out as really loud, uncontrollable sobs. I had to whisper
after that.

So I told them to unwrap his tail, because he likes to twitch his tail
when I talk to him. I asked for a brush, and I held him in my lap and
talked to him and brushed him but he didn't stretch or purr or twitch
his tail because he was too drugged up.

The doctor who'd watched over Flinx through the night told me her shift
was over at 7:30. "Before you go..." I whispered.

At breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that I got to hold him and
talk to him and tell him I loved him when he died. And that was, after
all, something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

http://www.spiretech.com/~guynoir/livestock/flinx.JPG
http://staff.jccc.net/krabas/new_page_9.htm

"guynoir" wrote in message
...
Flinx went into the crawl space under my neighbor's house to die. He
probably would have been happy to die there. It was warm place on a cold
night; he was comfortable resting on a fiberglass insulating blanket.
He started crying when I carried him out and didn't stop until he had
settled into my lap in the vet's waiting room. This was the last time
he purred.

At first the news was bad. I went to dinner and came back. Then the
news was much, much worse. I went home to bed, the vet called at 5:30
Thanksgiving morning. Flinx was "vocalizing", she said; the treatment
wasn't working, she said. She used the word "excruciating" several
times. She wanted to keep talking but I told her I was coming back.

They were all women in the vet's office. One of the younger techs even
started crying when I cried. Actually, I tried to say something but it
just came out as really loud, uncontrollable sobs. I had to whisper
after that.

So I told them to unwrap his tail, because he likes to twitch his tail
when I talk to him. I asked for a brush, and I held him in my lap and
talked to him and brushed him but he didn't stretch or purr or twitch
his tail because he was too drugged up.

The doctor who'd watched over Flinx through the night told me her shift
was over at 7:30. "Before you go..." I whispered.

At breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that I got to hold him and
talk to him and tell him I loved him when he died. And that was, after
all, something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

http://www.spiretech.com/~guynoir/livestock/flinx.JPG
http://staff.jccc.net/krabas/new_page_9.htm



John, he was so beautiful. He knew how much you loved him.
I wish all cats were loved that way, and I hope your heart heals
soon and the memory of the joy of him overshadows the pain of
losing him.

guynoir wrote:
Flinx went into the crawl space under my neighbor's house to die. He
probably would have been happy to die there. It was warm place on a cold
night; he was comfortable resting on a fiberglass insulating blanket.
He started crying when I carried him out and didn't stop until he had
settled into my lap in the vet's waiting room. This was the last time
he purred.

wow, that's a long time to cry. I guess he didn't appreciate you
pulling him off of his resting spot..you said he looked pretty comfy
hey, before you drug him out and made him cry? This would have been my
first clue. But hind sight is 20/20 I might have done the same thing
you did.

At first the news was bad. I went to dinner and came back. Then the
news was much, much worse. I went home to bed, the vet called at 5:30
Thanksgiving morning. Flinx was "vocalizing", she said; the treatment
wasn't working, she said. She used the word "excruciating" several
times. She wanted to keep talking but I told her I was coming back.

"excruciating"? Hmmm, at that point, you probably wished you had not
forced him off of his comfortable death bed. Animals know when they are
going to die.

They were all women in the vet's office. One of the younger techs even
started crying when I cried. Actually, I tried to say something but it
just came out as really loud, uncontrollable sobs. I had to whisper
after that.

wow, a little dramatic, but I can still see telling this.

So I told them to unwrap his tail, because he likes to twitch his tail
when I talk to him.
I asked for a brush, and I held him in my lap and
talked to him and brushed him but he didn't stretch or purr or twitch
his tail because he was too drugged up.

This is good, because this puts him back in his little leaving mode.
At least he's not in pain.

The doctor who'd watched over Flinx through the night told me her shift
was over at 7:30. "Before you go..." I whispered.

This is faggoty of you to tell this. This makes no sense.
You want pity? Ahhh I'm so sorry. I really am.
Have you taken your rainbow bridge pill yet?
It makes it all better. Take your rainbow bridge pill.


At breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that I got to hold him and
talk to him and tell him I loved him when he died. And that was, after
all, something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

What strikes me about this whole thing, it's all about you!
Right down to what you have to be thankful for.

What about the cat, you drug him out of his comfort and tried to force
him to live subjecting him to excruciating pain, and all you can do is
say you had to whisper?
Don't you think this is pretty faggoty or something?

To write rubbish such as this crap:

(This is faggoty of you to tell this. This makes no sense.
You want pity? Ahhh I'm so sorry. I really am.
Have you taken your rainbow bridge pill yet?
It makes it all better. Take your rainbow bridge pill.)

You must be a selfish and heartless, asshole sucker,
With no decent feeling for another human's suffering,
let alone a small cat.

FOAD

wrote:

You must be a selfish and heartless, asshole sucker,
With no decent feeling for another human's suffering,
let alone a small cat.

FOAD

Asshole sucker? You?

I reckon. People do all sorts of things when they get horny.
Cyberat has pretty much cornered the group in rim jobs,
there's always room for one more wagging tongue.