Fare thee well

I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.
This is my tribute to my friend:

A decade ago, a very pregnant stray cat arrived on the doorstep of Christoph's
and my apartment - it was December. I took her in and proclaimed ours 'a home
for wayward felines.' Cecil, as we called her, gave birth to five absolutely
adorable kittens....and Yoda.

Yoda was born a pinkish-grey hue with a smattering of white hair for good
measure. Naked, wrinkled and a face only a mother could love, hence his
name. We found lovely homes for all of the 'cute' kittens. Yoda, well, he
found his own home. Thank you very much, it was clear he would not be
leaving.

Over the years life's normal shifts ensued, residences changed, men came and
went...but Yoda remained a constant. The sentry, diligently guarding my bed.
One never knows when bed thieves will strike, and by god, I was ready for them.


After a hard day at work, I found myself looking forward to finding him on
point, the down comforter. One look at him and all his splendid regality
would move me to burst into song, the one he tended to conjure was 'Hey, Big
Spender', by Peggy Lee. He would gaze at my silliness adoringly. I ate it
up, being a sucker for such placations. Deep down, I'm certain he was thinking
I needed to be spayed though he never let on to it.

Living within a clutter of cats and usually the only male, Yoda was always the
one who moved with ease throughout the group. Neither tyrant, nor Milquetoast;
always respectful and polite to the females, regardless how belligerent they
could become. He was a dignified elder statesman, to be sure.

Today, the rooms seem empty and I ache for him. I resign to feeling this way
for a good, long while...he, having been part of my lifescape for ten years.
I miss my cat, my grouchy old man. I miss my friend.

PS My bed is still here.

On 29 Aug 2004 20:03:30 GMT, (Marievulsion)
wrote:


I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.
This is my tribute to my friend:

A decade ago, a very pregnant stray cat arrived on the doorstep of Christoph's
and my apartment - it was December. I took her in and proclaimed ours 'a home
for wayward felines.' Cecil, as we called her, gave birth to five absolutely
adorable kittens....and Yoda.

Yoda was born a pinkish-grey hue with a smattering of white hair for good
measure. Naked, wrinkled and a face only a mother could love, hence his
name. We found lovely homes for all of the 'cute' kittens. Yoda, well, he
found his own home. Thank you very much, it was clear he would not be
leaving.

Over the years life's normal shifts ensued, residences changed, men came and
went...but Yoda remained a constant. The sentry, diligently guarding my bed.
One never knows when bed thieves will strike, and by god, I was ready for them.


After a hard day at work, I found myself looking forward to finding him on
point, the down comforter. One look at him and all his splendid regality
would move me to burst into song, the one he tended to conjure was 'Hey, Big
Spender', by Peggy Lee. He would gaze at my silliness adoringly. I ate it
up, being a sucker for such placations. Deep down, I'm certain he was thinking
I needed to be spayed though he never let on to it.

Living within a clutter of cats and usually the only male, Yoda was always the
one who moved with ease throughout the group. Neither tyrant, nor Milquetoast;
always respectful and polite to the females, regardless how belligerent they
could become. He was a dignified elder statesman, to be sure.

Today, the rooms seem empty and I ache for him. I resign to feeling this way
for a good, long while...he, having been part of my lifescape for ten years.
I miss my cat, my grouchy old man. I miss my friend.

PS My bed is still here.
I am sorry for your loss.
I will light a candle for Yoda's safe passage to the Bridge.

On 29 Aug 2004 20:03:30 GMT, (Marievulsion)
wrote:


I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.
This is my tribute to my friend:

A decade ago, a very pregnant stray cat arrived on the doorstep of Christoph's
and my apartment - it was December. I took her in and proclaimed ours 'a home
for wayward felines.' Cecil, as we called her, gave birth to five absolutely
adorable kittens....and Yoda.

Yoda was born a pinkish-grey hue with a smattering of white hair for good
measure. Naked, wrinkled and a face only a mother could love, hence his
name. We found lovely homes for all of the 'cute' kittens. Yoda, well, he
found his own home. Thank you very much, it was clear he would not be
leaving.

Over the years life's normal shifts ensued, residences changed, men came and
went...but Yoda remained a constant. The sentry, diligently guarding my bed.
One never knows when bed thieves will strike, and by god, I was ready for them.


After a hard day at work, I found myself looking forward to finding him on
point, the down comforter. One look at him and all his splendid regality
would move me to burst into song, the one he tended to conjure was 'Hey, Big
Spender', by Peggy Lee. He would gaze at my silliness adoringly. I ate it
up, being a sucker for such placations. Deep down, I'm certain he was thinking
I needed to be spayed though he never let on to it.

Living within a clutter of cats and usually the only male, Yoda was always the
one who moved with ease throughout the group. Neither tyrant, nor Milquetoast;
always respectful and polite to the females, regardless how belligerent they
could become. He was a dignified elder statesman, to be sure.

Today, the rooms seem empty and I ache for him. I resign to feeling this way
for a good, long while...he, having been part of my lifescape for ten years.
I miss my cat, my grouchy old man. I miss my friend.

PS My bed is still here.
I am sorry for your loss.
I will light a candle for Yoda's safe passage to the Bridge.

On 29 Aug 2004 20:03:30 GMT, (Marievulsion)
wrote:


I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.
This is my tribute to my friend:

A decade ago, a very pregnant stray cat arrived on the doorstep of Christoph's
and my apartment - it was December. I took her in and proclaimed ours 'a home
for wayward felines.' Cecil, as we called her, gave birth to five absolutely
adorable kittens....and Yoda.

Yoda was born a pinkish-grey hue with a smattering of white hair for good
measure. Naked, wrinkled and a face only a mother could love, hence his
name. We found lovely homes for all of the 'cute' kittens. Yoda, well, he
found his own home. Thank you very much, it was clear he would not be
leaving.

Over the years life's normal shifts ensued, residences changed, men came and
went...but Yoda remained a constant. The sentry, diligently guarding my bed.
One never knows when bed thieves will strike, and by god, I was ready for them.


After a hard day at work, I found myself looking forward to finding him on
point, the down comforter. One look at him and all his splendid regality
would move me to burst into song, the one he tended to conjure was 'Hey, Big
Spender', by Peggy Lee. He would gaze at my silliness adoringly. I ate it
up, being a sucker for such placations. Deep down, I'm certain he was thinking
I needed to be spayed though he never let on to it.

Living within a clutter of cats and usually the only male, Yoda was always the
one who moved with ease throughout the group. Neither tyrant, nor Milquetoast;
always respectful and polite to the females, regardless how belligerent they
could become. He was a dignified elder statesman, to be sure.

Today, the rooms seem empty and I ache for him. I resign to feeling this way
for a good, long while...he, having been part of my lifescape for ten years.
I miss my cat, my grouchy old man. I miss my friend.

PS My bed is still here.
I am sorry for your loss.
I will light a candle for Yoda's safe passage to the Bridge.

From: marievulsion

I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in
a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he
had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.

Im so sorry about Yoda. I lost a *baby* this week also, so I know how bad you
feel. Your tribute is beautiful. They are spectacular animals. They are so
much better than we are.

From: marievulsion

I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in
a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he
had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.

Im so sorry about Yoda. I lost a *baby* this week also, so I know how bad you
feel. Your tribute is beautiful. They are spectacular animals. They are so
much better than we are.

From: marievulsion

I took my 10-year old boy, Yoda, to the vet yesterday for the second time in
a
week. He subsequently went into respiratory failure and died. Although he
had
been ill for about two weeks, it took both the vet and myself by surprise.

Im so sorry about Yoda. I lost a *baby* this week also, so I know how bad you
feel. Your tribute is beautiful. They are spectacular animals. They are so
much better than we are.

Yoda's shift has ended, his regiment has been called back, and he has
returned to his original home. We salute the departed statesman and
sentry and offer a "job well done" in the path of his departure.

He sounds like a great old boy, and I'm sorry for your loss. I'll bet
he never had any doubts about whether he was loved. Higher praise I
can't think of for the companion of a cat.

Priscilla

Yoda's shift has ended, his regiment has been called back, and he has
returned to his original home. We salute the departed statesman and
sentry and offer a "job well done" in the path of his departure.

He sounds like a great old boy, and I'm sorry for your loss. I'll bet
he never had any doubts about whether he was loved. Higher praise I
can't think of for the companion of a cat.

Priscilla

Yoda's shift has ended, his regiment has been called back, and he has
returned to his original home. We salute the departed statesman and
sentry and offer a "job well done" in the path of his departure.

He sounds like a great old boy, and I'm sorry for your loss. I'll bet
he never had any doubts about whether he was loved. Higher praise I
can't think of for the companion of a cat.

Priscilla