Story of Betty's path

Betty's Path

All my life I had walked forward alone. Until one day, our paths met and
merged, and you and I, my love, walked together, side by side. Me with
large, hoomin steps, and you with dainty, trotting steps.

Thus paired, we traveled as though we were one. When you struggled to
follow, I tried to slow down. But one day you finally staggered and fell.
For the first time, I stopped moving forward, and I knelt down beside you
for a long time.

Days came, and nights fell; seasons turned, and then returned. Your fur
rippled in the breeze and glistened in the starlight, but you still did not
stir. Eventually, I felt compelled to continue the travel again, but I
hesitated, and I looked back over my shoulder to see if you would follow.

Now, I still glance backwards from time to time, but less than I did. I
think that in reality you didn't stay behind, but instead went ahead. And I
am walking a path we're destined to journey again, together.
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

----
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

I wrote this when I noticed how I tended to hesitate when doing everyday
things. When I came home, I'd reach for the door, time seemed to stop as I
remembered how Betty greeted me. When I got a spoon out of the drawer, I'd
pause and think about the food I used to give her.

I'd adopted Betty in 2003, and she'd died of cancer in 2006. I realized
that I was starting to mourn her for almost as long as I'd had her. But
writing this helped get some things out. It was shortly afterwards, in
January 2009, that I had a day that was so busy and hectic, that when I
went to bed, I couldn't recall having thought about Betty at all. I'd been
thinking about the new kitties, Dot and Buster, instead.

If being in mourning means thinking of someone you've lost more than anyone
alive, then in 2009, I was no longer in mourning for Betty. I still missed
her a great deal, but I was looking forward more than I was looking back.

On 04/10/2012 09:43 PM, Takayuki wrote:
Betty's Path

All my life I had walked forward alone. Until one day, our paths met and
merged, and you and I, my love, walked together, side by side. Me with
large, hoomin steps, and you with dainty, trotting steps.

Thus paired, we traveled as though we were one. When you struggled to
follow, I tried to slow down. But one day you finally staggered and fell.
For the first time, I stopped moving forward, and I knelt down beside you
for a long time.

Days came, and nights fell; seasons turned, and then returned. Your fur
rippled in the breeze and glistened in the starlight, but you still did not
stir. Eventually, I felt compelled to continue the travel again, but I
hesitated, and I looked back over my shoulder to see if you would follow.

Now, I still glance backwards from time to time, but less than I did. I
think that in reality you didn't stay behind, but instead went ahead. And I
am walking a path we're destined to journey again, together.
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

----
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

I wrote this when I noticed how I tended to hesitate when doing everyday
things. When I came home, I'd reach for the door, time seemed to stop as I
remembered how Betty greeted me. When I got a spoon out of the drawer, I'd
pause and think about the food I used to give her.

I'd adopted Betty in 2003, and she'd died of cancer in 2006. I realized
that I was starting to mourn her for almost as long as I'd had her. But
writing this helped get some things out. It was shortly afterwards, in
January 2009, that I had a day that was so busy and hectic, that when I
went to bed, I couldn't recall having thought about Betty at all. I'd been
thinking about the new kitties, Dot and Buster, instead.

If being in mourning means thinking of someone you've lost more than anyone
alive, then in 2009, I was no longer in mourning for Betty. I still missed
her a great deal, but I was looking forward more than I was looking back.


Long gone but not forgotten -- rest in peace. MLB

"Takayuki" wrote in message
...
Betty's Path

All my life I had walked forward alone. Until one day, our paths met and
merged, and you and I, my love, walked together, side by side. Me with
large, hoomin steps, and you with dainty, trotting steps.

Thus paired, we traveled as though we were one. When you struggled to
follow, I tried to slow down. But one day you finally staggered and fell.
For the first time, I stopped moving forward, and I knelt down beside you
for a long time.

Days came, and nights fell; seasons turned, and then returned. Your fur
rippled in the breeze and glistened in the starlight, but you still did
not
stir. Eventually, I felt compelled to continue the travel again, but I
hesitated, and I looked back over my shoulder to see if you would follow.

Now, I still glance backwards from time to time, but less than I did. I
think that in reality you didn't stay behind, but instead went ahead. And
I
am walking a path we're destined to journey again, together.
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

----
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

I wrote this when I noticed how I tended to hesitate when doing everyday
things. When I came home, I'd reach for the door, time seemed to stop as I
remembered how Betty greeted me. When I got a spoon out of the drawer, I'd
pause and think about the food I used to give her.

I'd adopted Betty in 2003, and she'd died of cancer in 2006. I realized
that I was starting to mourn her for almost as long as I'd had her. But
writing this helped get some things out. It was shortly afterwards, in
January 2009, that I had a day that was so busy and hectic, that when I
went to bed, I couldn't recall having thought about Betty at all. I'd been
thinking about the new kitties, Dot and Buster, instead.

If being in mourning means thinking of someone you've lost more than
anyone
alive, then in 2009, I was no longer in mourning for Betty. I still missed
her a great deal, but I was looking forward more than I was looking back.

I'm glad to hear this.
I followed Betty's treatment on here, and hoped against hope she would
recover but it was not to be.
When you lost her, the grief and despair that you shared on this group made
me weep, because I know that kind of grief and despair myself only too well.
I used to sit on my stool here at my computer with tears dripping down my
face.

But..if we choose to have pets that we will inevitably outlive, that's the
price we pay for their love. The price comes at the end.
I tell myself that every time to see if helps.

I really don't know how I would cope if I lost Boyfriend. We just love each
other so much, like you and Betty.

You are a kind, gentle and insightful man, Tak, and when you lost Betty
eventually, my heart almost broke on your behalf.

Tweed

On 4/10/2012 10:43 PM, Takayuki wrote:
Betty's Path

All my life I had walked forward alone. Until one day, our paths met and
merged, and you and I, my love, walked together, side by side. Me with
large, hoomin steps, and you with dainty, trotting steps.

Thus paired, we traveled as though we were one. When you struggled to
follow, I tried to slow down. But one day you finally staggered and fell.
For the first time, I stopped moving forward, and I knelt down beside you
for a long time.

Days came, and nights fell; seasons turned, and then returned. Your fur
rippled in the breeze and glistened in the starlight, but you still did not
stir. Eventually, I felt compelled to continue the travel again, but I
hesitated, and I looked back over my shoulder to see if you would follow.

Now, I still glance backwards from time to time, but less than I did. I
think that in reality you didn't stay behind, but instead went ahead. And I
am walking a path we're destined to journey again, together.
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

----
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

I wrote this when I noticed how I tended to hesitate when doing everyday
things. When I came home, I'd reach for the door, time seemed to stop as I
remembered how Betty greeted me. When I got a spoon out of the drawer, I'd
pause and think about the food I used to give her.

I'd adopted Betty in 2003, and she'd died of cancer in 2006. I realized
that I was starting to mourn her for almost as long as I'd had her. But
writing this helped get some things out. It was shortly afterwards, in
January 2009, that I had a day that was so busy and hectic, that when I
went to bed, I couldn't recall having thought about Betty at all. I'd been
thinking about the new kitties, Dot and Buster, instead.

If being in mourning means thinking of someone you've lost more than anyone
alive, then in 2009, I was no longer in mourning for Betty. I still missed
her a great deal, but I was looking forward more than I was looking back.

Aw, Tak, you've got me sobbing again and I said I wouldn't do that for
at least the next two days (I'm trying to taper down, I'm in a very bad
place right now). But that's OK because these felt somewhat like
healing tears so it may be for the best. I still miss Betty too... and
Bandit, and Samazon, and Smokey, and so, so, so many owners who have
gone ahead and are waiting for us slow plodding hoomins to follow.

--
Hugs,

CatNipped
See all our masters at: http://www.PossiblePlaces.com/CatNipped

See the RPCA FAQ site, created by "Yowie", maintained by Mark Edwards, at:
http://www.professional-geek.net/rpcablog/

Email: L(dot)T(dot)Crews(at)comcast(dot)net

On Tuesday, April 10, 2012 11:43:40 PM UTC-4, Takayuki wrote:
Betty's Path

All my life I had walked forward alone. Until one day, our paths met and
merged, and you and I, my love, walked together, side by side. Me with
large, hoomin steps, and you with dainty, trotting steps.

Thus paired, we traveled as though we were one. When you struggled to
follow, I tried to slow down. But one day you finally staggered and fell.
For the first time, I stopped moving forward, and I knelt down beside you
for a long time.

Days came, and nights fell; seasons turned, and then returned. Your fur
rippled in the breeze and glistened in the starlight, but you still did not
stir. Eventually, I felt compelled to continue the travel again, but I
hesitated, and I looked back over my shoulder to see if you would follow.

Now, I still glance backwards from time to time, but less than I did. I
think that in reality you didn't stay behind, but instead went ahead. And I
am walking a path we're destined to journey again, together.
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

----
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

I wrote this when I noticed how I tended to hesitate when doing everyday
things. When I came home, I'd reach for the door, time seemed to stop as I
remembered how Betty greeted me. When I got a spoon out of the drawer, I'd
pause and think about the food I used to give her.

I'd adopted Betty in 2003, and she'd died of cancer in 2006. I realized
that I was starting to mourn her for almost as long as I'd had her. But
writing this helped get some things out. It was shortly afterwards, in
January 2009, that I had a day that was so busy and hectic, that when I
went to bed, I couldn't recall having thought about Betty at all. I'd been
thinking about the new kitties, Dot and Buster, instead.

If being in mourning means thinking of someone you've lost more than anyone
alive, then in 2009, I was no longer in mourning for Betty. I still missed
her a great deal, but I was looking forward more than I was looking back.

Tak, that was so beautiful that it has me sobbing (quietly) at work. I've got to get myself cleaned up and figure out how I'm goign to blame this on allergies.
I remember that fight, too, you and Betty. It was sad to watch, but beautiful. You have a real way with words and the love you and Betty had just glowed in your posts. She will never be forgotten, by any of us. Thanks for sharing all of that, the good and the bad.

Jane
- owned and operated by the Princess Rita (and RIP to Fin, Leia, and Belle)

On Tuesday, April 10, 2012 11:43:40 PM UTC-4, Takayuki wrote:
Betty's Path

All my life I had walked forward alone. Until one day, our paths met and
merged, and you and I, my love, walked together, side by side. Me with
large, hoomin steps, and you with dainty, trotting steps.

Thus paired, we traveled as though we were one. When you struggled to
follow, I tried to slow down. But one day you finally staggered and fell.
For the first time, I stopped moving forward, and I knelt down beside you
for a long time.

Days came, and nights fell; seasons turned, and then returned. Your fur
rippled in the breeze and glistened in the starlight, but you still did not
stir. Eventually, I felt compelled to continue the travel again, but I
hesitated, and I looked back over my shoulder to see if you would follow.

Now, I still glance backwards from time to time, but less than I did. I
think that in reality you didn't stay behind, but instead went ahead. And I
am walking a path we're destined to journey again, together.
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

----
This is a Usenet repost from December 2008. I was reminded of it from the
occasional inevitable sad events that we share.

I wrote this when I noticed how I tended to hesitate when doing everyday
things. When I came home, I'd reach for the door, time seemed to stop as I
remembered how Betty greeted me. When I got a spoon out of the drawer, I'd
pause and think about the food I used to give her.

I'd adopted Betty in 2003, and she'd died of cancer in 2006. I realized
that I was starting to mourn her for almost as long as I'd had her. But
writing this helped get some things out. It was shortly afterwards, in
January 2009, that I had a day that was so busy and hectic, that when I
went to bed, I couldn't recall having thought about Betty at all. I'd been
thinking about the new kitties, Dot and Buster, instead.

If being in mourning means thinking of someone you've lost more than anyone
alive, then in 2009, I was no longer in mourning for Betty. I still missed
her a great deal, but I was looking forward more than I was looking back.

Betty was one in a million. How lucky she was to have been so loved! I won't forget her either...

Blessed be,
Elizabeth

On Wed, 11 Apr 2012 20:29:34 +0100, "Christina Websell"
wrote:
I'm glad to hear this.
I followed Betty's treatment on here, and hoped against hope she would
recover but it was not to be.
When you lost her, the grief and despair that you shared on this group made
me weep, because I know that kind of grief and despair myself only too well.
I used to sit on my stool here at my computer with tears dripping down my
face.

But..if we choose to have pets that we will inevitably outlive, that's the
price we pay for their love. The price comes at the end.
I tell myself that every time to see if helps.

I really don't know how I would cope if I lost Boyfriend. We just love each
other so much, like you and Betty.

You are a kind, gentle and insightful man, Tak, and when you lost Betty
eventually, my heart almost broke on your behalf.

I don't think I'm inherently especially kind. I often think to myself that
I should do more to keep in touch with the people I know, and be there more
for others.

Betty though, led by example, and was the kind of purrson I'd have liked to
be. I knew she'd always be there for me.

But nowadays, I have Dot, who's a real comfort. I often just look at her in
bemusement, because she's like what could have been. She's from the same
shelter as Betty, was born around the same time of the same year, and have
some odd similaries in personality. They might possibly have been
littermates. I'm gratified to see her so far living out a full and healthy
lifespan.

On Wed, 11 Apr 2012 18:21:39 -0500, CatNipped
wrote:
Aw, Tak, you've got me sobbing again and I said I wouldn't do that for
at least the next two days (I'm trying to taper down, I'm in a very bad
place right now). But that's OK because these felt somewhat like
healing tears so it may be for the best. I still miss Betty too... and
Bandit, and Samazon, and Smokey, and so, so, so many owners who have
gone ahead and are waiting for us slow plodding hoomins to follow.

Oh yes, exactly. They're just gone too soon. I hope that you're in a better
state now.