RIP: Fred the cat

On Jan 25, 4:03*am, "c.n." wrote:

Now she sleeps,
and Fred's right there,
curled up above her head.

C. Nevitt ~ 2009

(p.s. if you want to see a pic of Fred, visithttp://thebluesandthensome.blogspot.com)

I'm sorry for your loss; I'm sure you will see Fred again one day.

Candace

I'm so sorry for you and your family that Fred is gone, but, you know that
he has not gone far, only as far as your heart. Thank you for letting us
meet Fred and know you and your wife. Peace as you think of your dear
friend.
Charleen

"c.n." wrote in message
...
There's other lucky people (almost everyone on this list) who are like
me and my wife, who feel love for their pets as strong as any love
they've ever felt for any living thing. The joy that they bring is
unconditional, so maybe that is why it so hard when one of them
passes. Make no mistake, and other animal lovers will tell you the
same, it is as hard as loving a loved one--because they are (to us) a
loved one.

Our baby (if you can call a 14 yr old a baby), Fred the cat (or
Freddy, as we called him, after another cool cat, the late bluesman
Freddy King), came down with cancer and we had to have him put to
sleep a few days ago...and to say that there has been some serious
grieving going on around here is an understatement.

He passed on, quite literally, in my wife's arms, with her head laid
upon his.

After spending the rest of the day and evening crying our eyes out, my
wife finally went to sleep--only to wake up a few hours later,
sobbing, telling me there was a buzzing in her ear. We chalked it up
to stress, and finally went back to sleep. Btw, she also said she'd
never woke up crying before, or had any sort of buzzing in her ear.

Tonight at work, without warning and between serving plates of ravioli
and chicken parm, it came to her--that buzzing was Fred's spirit
slipping out! We surmise that Fred slipped into her ear at the moment
he passed, and then slipped out once he was back home. Call us nuts,
it won't bother us at all...not as long as we know Fred's back here in
our midst. His plate will always remain there on the floor, right next
to Peeper's plate (Peeps is our other cat, who also misses his little
brother very much).

Anyway, my wife came home sobbing tonight, saying she had to tell me
what had come to her at work. We held each other, and agreed that yes,
that must be what happened. To try and make her feel better, because
she said people are going to think we're crazy, I wrote her a poem,
that she gave me permission to share--on the chance that someone else
may have the same thing happen to them one day--and they'll know they
aren't by themselves, or all that crazy.

Fred the cat.

Fred the cat,
had his own pillow,
above his mama's head.

All that lives,
will leave this plane,
and sadly so has Fred.

Off he went,
nestled in mama's arms,
her head gently on his.

Cried to sleep,
she was awakened,
by a buzzing in her ear.

It was Fred,
slipping gently out,
telling her that he's here.

Now she sleeps,
and Fred's right there,
curled up above her head.

C. Nevitt ~ 2009

(p.s. if you want to see a pic of Fred, visit
http://thebluesandthensome.blogspot.com )

Our condolences to you & your wife and all who loved Fred.

Your poem was beautiful.

Yowie

"c.n." wrote in message

There's other lucky people (almost everyone on this list) who are like
me and my wife, who feel love for their pets as strong as any love
they've ever felt for any living thing. The joy that they bring is
unconditional, so maybe that is why it so hard when one of them
passes. Make no mistake, and other animal lovers will tell you the
same, it is as hard as loving a loved one--because they are (to us) a
loved one.

Our baby (if you can call a 14 yr old a baby), Fred the cat (or
Freddy, as we called him, after another cool cat, the late bluesman
Freddy King), came down with cancer and we had to have him put to
sleep a few days ago...and to say that there has been some serious
grieving going on around here is an understatement.

He passed on, quite literally, in my wife's arms, with her head laid
upon his.

After spending the rest of the day and evening crying our eyes out, my
wife finally went to sleep--only to wake up a few hours later,
sobbing, telling me there was a buzzing in her ear. We chalked it up
to stress, and finally went back to sleep. Btw, she also said she'd
never woke up crying before, or had any sort of buzzing in her ear.

Tonight at work, without warning and between serving plates of ravioli
and chicken parm, it came to her--that buzzing was Fred's spirit
slipping out! We surmise that Fred slipped into her ear at the moment
he passed, and then slipped out once he was back home. Call us nuts,
it won't bother us at all...not as long as we know Fred's back here in
our midst. His plate will always remain there on the floor, right next
to Peeper's plate (Peeps is our other cat, who also misses his little
brother very much).

Anyway, my wife came home sobbing tonight, saying she had to tell me
what had come to her at work. We held each other, and agreed that yes,
that must be what happened. To try and make her feel better, because
she said people are going to think we're crazy, I wrote her a poem,
that she gave me permission to share--on the chance that someone else
may have the same thing happen to them one day--and they'll know they
aren't by themselves, or all that crazy.

Fred the cat.

Fred the cat,
had his own pillow,
above his mama's head.

All that lives,
will leave this plane,
and sadly so has Fred.

Off he went,
nestled in mama's arms,
her head gently on his.

Cried to sleep,
she was awakened,
by a buzzing in her ear.

It was Fred,
slipping gently out,
telling her that he's here.

Now she sleeps,
and Fred's right there,
curled up above her head.

C. Nevitt ~ 2009

(p.s. if you want to see a pic of Fred, visit
http://thebluesandthensome.blogspot.com )

--
If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off, how many
pancakes can you fit in a doghouse? None, icecream doesn't have bones.

c.n. wrote:

There's other lucky people (almost everyone on this list) who are like
me and my wife, who feel love for their pets as strong as any love
they've ever felt for any living thing. The joy that they bring is
unconditional, so maybe that is why it so hard when one of them
passes. Make no mistake, and other animal lovers will tell you the
same, it is as hard as loving a loved one--because they are (to us) a
loved one.

Our baby (if you can call a 14 yr old a baby), Fred the cat (or
Freddy, as we called him, after another cool cat, the late bluesman
Freddy King), came down with cancer and we had to have him put to
sleep a few days ago...and to say that there has been some serious
grieving going on around here is an understatement.

He passed on, quite literally, in my wife's arms, with her head laid
upon his.

After spending the rest of the day and evening crying our eyes out, my
wife finally went to sleep--only to wake up a few hours later,
sobbing, telling me there was a buzzing in her ear. We chalked it up
to stress, and finally went back to sleep. Btw, she also said she'd
never woke up crying before, or had any sort of buzzing in her ear.

Tonight at work, without warning and between serving plates of ravioli
and chicken parm, it came to her--that buzzing was Fred's spirit
slipping out! We surmise that Fred slipped into her ear at the moment
he passed, and then slipped out once he was back home. Call us nuts,
it won't bother us at all...not as long as we know Fred's back here in
our midst. His plate will always remain there on the floor, right next
to Peeper's plate (Peeps is our other cat, who also misses his little
brother very much).

Anyway, my wife came home sobbing tonight, saying she had to tell me
what had come to her at work. We held each other, and agreed that yes,
that must be what happened. To try and make her feel better, because
she said people are going to think we're crazy, I wrote her a poem,
that she gave me permission to share--on the chance that someone else
may have the same thing happen to them one day--and they'll know they
aren't by themselves, or all that crazy.

Fred the cat.

Fred the cat,
had his own pillow,
above his mama's head.

All that lives,
will leave this plane,
and sadly so has Fred.

Off he went,
nestled in mama's arms,
her head gently on his.

Cried to sleep,
she was awakened,
by a buzzing in her ear.

It was Fred,
slipping gently out,
telling her that he's here.

Now she sleeps,
and Fred's right there,
curled up above her head.

C. Nevitt ~ 2009

(p.s. if you want to see a pic of Fred, visit
http://thebluesandthensome.blogspot.com )

He was a beautiful boy! I love the picture. And you wrote a lovely
tribute. The poem is very sweet. Welcome to RPCA.

--
Joyce ^..^

(To email me, remove the X's from my user name.)

My sincere sympathy to you and your wife. Fred looked very much like my
Nanki-Poo, whom I lost last June and still cry over.

--

Joy

There is something about the presence of a cat... that seems to take the
bite out of being alone. - Louis J. Camuti

"c.n." wrote in message
...
There's other lucky people (almost everyone on this list) who are like
me and my wife, who feel love for their pets as strong as any love
they've ever felt for any living thing. The joy that they bring is
unconditional, so maybe that is why it so hard when one of them
passes. Make no mistake, and other animal lovers will tell you the
same, it is as hard as loving a loved one--because they are (to us) a
loved one.

Our baby (if you can call a 14 yr old a baby), Fred the cat (or
Freddy, as we called him, after another cool cat, the late bluesman
Freddy King), came down with cancer and we had to have him put to
sleep a few days ago...and to say that there has been some serious
grieving going on around here is an understatement.

He passed on, quite literally, in my wife's arms, with her head laid
upon his.

After spending the rest of the day and evening crying our eyes out, my
wife finally went to sleep--only to wake up a few hours later,
sobbing, telling me there was a buzzing in her ear. We chalked it up
to stress, and finally went back to sleep. Btw, she also said she'd
never woke up crying before, or had any sort of buzzing in her ear.

Tonight at work, without warning and between serving plates of ravioli
and chicken parm, it came to her--that buzzing was Fred's spirit
slipping out! We surmise that Fred slipped into her ear at the moment
he passed, and then slipped out once he was back home. Call us nuts,
it won't bother us at all...not as long as we know Fred's back here in
our midst. His plate will always remain there on the floor, right next
to Peeper's plate (Peeps is our other cat, who also misses his little
brother very much).

Anyway, my wife came home sobbing tonight, saying she had to tell me
what had come to her at work. We held each other, and agreed that yes,
that must be what happened. To try and make her feel better, because
she said people are going to think we're crazy, I wrote her a poem,
that she gave me permission to share--on the chance that someone else
may have the same thing happen to them one day--and they'll know they
aren't by themselves, or all that crazy.

Fred the cat.

Fred the cat,
had his own pillow,
above his mama's head.

All that lives,
will leave this plane,
and sadly so has Fred.

Off he went,
nestled in mama's arms,
her head gently on his.

Cried to sleep,
she was awakened,
by a buzzing in her ear.

It was Fred,
slipping gently out,
telling her that he's here.

Now she sleeps,
and Fred's right there,
curled up above her head.

C. Nevitt ~ 2009

(p.s. if you want to see a pic of Fred, visit
http://thebluesandthensome.blogspot.com )

Our baby (if you can call a 14 yr old a baby), Fred the cat (or
Freddy, as we called him, after another cool cat, the late bluesman
Freddy King), came down with cancer and we had to have him put to
sleep a few days ago...and to say that there has been some serious
grieving going on around here is an understatement.

I am so very sorry for your loss. Yes, we know the wonder of having
furred family members and the heartbreak that comes from their lives
being shorter than ours.

I'm pretty sure that Fred will pay an occasional visit. The cats that
have preceeded me do.

Dan

Purrs for you, your wife, Peepers and the rest who Fred left behind. A
candle has been lit for his journey to the RB

On Sun, 25 Jan 2009 03:03:17 -0800 (PST), "c.n."
wrote:

There's other lucky people (almost everyone on this list) who are like
me and my wife, who feel love for their pets as strong as any love
they've ever felt for any living thing. The joy that they bring is
unconditional, so maybe that is why it so hard when one of them
passes. Make no mistake, and other animal lovers will tell you the
same, it is as hard as loving a loved one--because they are (to us) a
loved one.

Our baby (if you can call a 14 yr old a baby), Fred the cat (or
Freddy, as we called him, after another cool cat, the late bluesman
Freddy King), came down with cancer and we had to have him put to
sleep a few days ago...and to say that there has been some serious
grieving going on around here is an understatement.

He passed on, quite literally, in my wife's arms, with her head laid
upon his.

After spending the rest of the day and evening crying our eyes out, my
wife finally went to sleep--only to wake up a few hours later,
sobbing, telling me there was a buzzing in her ear. We chalked it up
to stress, and finally went back to sleep. Btw, she also said she'd
never woke up crying before, or had any sort of buzzing in her ear.

Tonight at work, without warning and between serving plates of ravioli
and chicken parm, it came to her--that buzzing was Fred's spirit
slipping out! We surmise that Fred slipped into her ear at the moment
he passed, and then slipped out once he was back home. Call us nuts,
it won't bother us at all...not as long as we know Fred's back here in
our midst. His plate will always remain there on the floor, right next
to Peeper's plate (Peeps is our other cat, who also misses his little
brother very much).

Anyway, my wife came home sobbing tonight, saying she had to tell me
what had come to her at work. We held each other, and agreed that yes,
that must be what happened. To try and make her feel better, because
she said people are going to think we're crazy, I wrote her a poem,
that she gave me permission to share--on the chance that someone else
may have the same thing happen to them one day--and they'll know they
aren't by themselves, or all that crazy.

Fred the cat.

Fred the cat,
had his own pillow,
above his mama's head.

All that lives,
will leave this plane,
and sadly so has Fred.

Off he went,
nestled in mama's arms,
her head gently on his.

Cried to sleep,
she was awakened,
by a buzzing in her ear.

It was Fred,
slipping gently out,
telling her that he's here.

Now she sleeps,
and Fred's right there,
curled up above her head.

C. Nevitt ~ 2009

(p.s. if you want to see a pic of Fred, visit
http://thebluesandthensome.blogspot.com )
--
Steve Touchstone
Little Bit, Sammy, Spotty, Princess, Furby
and Rocky (RB)
Pix at http://tinyurl.com/22pfn8
Vids at http://tinyurl.com/4yb6nj

"c.n." wrote in message
...

snip a tale of Fred's spirit

Our furbabies always return. It's jus over two years since Mrs.
Cat went to the Bridge - and tonight, for the first time, I saw
her shadow in my hallway. Her tail was raised in the way that
cats do when they greet us, and I heard a faint meow. I don't
care if others say it was a sound on the TV, I saw her.

--
MatSav