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In Memory - The Rainbow Bridge |
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 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 have 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 begins to quiver. 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 the Rainbow Bridge together...
- Anon.
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Sophie came to us as a 7-year-old cat, abandoned by it's owner, for reasons we never found out. She was scheduled to be put to sleep the day before Mother's day, but the humane society gave her one last chance, and brought her to a display booth at a local motel. The other kittens they came with found homes instantly, but Sophie found nobody. Until we came along. Nobody had even bothered to open the cage to see her, but we did. And after Patty had brushed her - continuously - for over a half hour, she was a new cat. She purred as if that had been the first time in her life anyone had loved her. And we did love her. For years she kept us thrilled with her incredible purr, her love of cuddling in my armpit and "kneading" me. She had been declawed, and was rather small, but she took over the house from Gato and Wendell, two rather large males. And when cancer took over her throat and made it impossible for her to eat, she still lay in my arms for a last purr. She still kneaded my arm. She was a very special, very wonderful, very loving kitty, right up to the end. I've never known a cat so filled with love, sweetness, and affection, and I suspect I never will. Sophie, I love you with all my heart. You will always be with me. Tony |
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With his gentle ways, his good nature, his trust and affection, this little
beigy-orange cat stole my heart. When failing kidneys led to daily needles and
pills, this boy (who was so nervous just standing in a doorway that was open
to the Out) taught me so much about forgiveness and tolerance. We had only 2 1/2
years together but I would take him in again without hesitation or a moment's doubt.
My life would have been truly bereft had we not met.
He is buried very close to his OneTrueHome, under the protection of the eaves
and just below the bedroom window where he loved to sit and watch the world.
Goodbye, sweetie, rest well.
Melissa
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One night in February 1997, a black tailless cat wandered up the stairs to the porch of a friend of mine who leaves food out for stray cats, and found not only food but a warm lap to climb in. My friend recognized that this was a cat who needed a home and gave me a call. I didn't think I needed another cat, but she insisted I at least look at him, so I relented and she brought him over. The rest, as they say, is history. I fell in love with Dexter. He quickly made himself at home, and was not in the least bit interested in the Out. However, at any strange noise outside the house, or any person he didn't recognize walking around the house, Dex ran to the window, uttering a soft growl. He even stood in the window and growled at a tornado once! He was quite the lapkitty, and also enjoyed basking in the sun and his daily wrestling matches with Maxwell. Never big on purrs, Dexter was possessed of a sweet spirit and a loving heart. Melanie |
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I am Manis (sweet) ... not only Gebu's fursister but his litter mate as well.... I am extremely shy and quiet, especially around humans.... they don't seem to appreciate me when I keep my claws out for protection.... my short hair makes life easier for me, in this very warm climate, than for the other kitties in the family... I love to hunt the kucup, the little lizard you call a gecko, that patrols our walls in search of flies and mosquitoes.... there are not so many of them any more, as their favorite food is rather rare now....I went to the bridge on 6 September 1997... (from his webpage) |
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In July, I was on vacation, sitting on my front porch, in the heat of the day, and some neighborhood kids were walking down the street. Tottering and staggering along behind was this little teeny creature, I thought maybe a hamster or something....She was on the hot pavement, and could barely walk yet. I called to them and they brought it over and it was a kitten, probably barely two weeks old!!!! She was mostly white, with little gray paws, tail, and ears. I immediately got milk, all I had, and the kitten was starved. They said they had found her beside the road. I told them she needed special care and I wanted to see if I could save her....they reluctantly agreed. I got formula, bottles, and fed her every three hours. I cleaned her little bottom with a warm cotton ball. She would lay on a pillow on my lap and put her little paws around the bottle while she drank, just like a baby!! I was hooked. She truly thought I was her "real" Mom, she stayed with me, whatever I was doing. She looked at me adoringly and touched my face with her soft little paw. God how I loved this cat! She was truly the love of my life. |
He always had a sense of humor. For example, Samantha wrote: "Dad let me clime up the sleeve on his smooth plastick leg to get on his lap an that wuz funzies (but he would na let me clime up hiz other leg, the 1 that had fuz on it)."
And Tabitha wrote: "Boy, doez we play! Weuns both like it when dad takes off his smooth plastick leg and has to crawl ... we like to pounce on the trailing empty trowser leg."
His courage in the face of adversity was a lesson to us all. And his love of his cats was absolute, pure, and a major focus of his life.
He has left us, gone to the bridge, to be there when Samantha and Tabitha go to join him. Their photo is here in his memory. We'll miss you, Wayne, but the love and kindness you showed in your posts will never be forgotten.
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Almost 19 years ago, I walked into the SPCA shelter here in
Victoria, B.C. to get another kitten of approximately the same
age as the kitten that I had adopted from the same place a week
earlier. That first kitten became Martha, who lived to be 14
years old. She was about 3 months old. I was looking for
another kitten of about the same age to be company and a playmate
for Martha. I was walking past a cage at shoulder height when
a little grey paw with a white sock shot out between the wire
and grabbed my shirt. The next thing I heard was a very
loud "MEOW" out of all proportion to the size of the kitten
it was coming from. I turned to see a beautiful grey tuxedo
kitten, about three months old, with gorgeous green-gold eyes
looking at me and telling me to take him HOME. Luckily, when
I was chosen, I had gained enough wisdom to be able to recognize
that I had been told what was what. He told me about five
minutes after we got home that his name was Spike.
He fought a valiant fight over the last five years against
kidney failure but today, Aug. 14, 1996, he was ready to go
and he let me know with his same old authority that it was
time. Our three wonderful vets had looked after him all his
life, much to his displeasure most of the time. One was there
to help him on his way today. He died at peace, quietly and
quickly, with his sorrowing Mum stroking his head.
He is now buried next to the fence that the squirrels use
as a path, insuring him some happy hunts. He was a treasure
and I will miss him so very much. Thank you, Spike, for
sharing all these years with me.
-Melinda Sheridan
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Jason, a tiny kitten with a pouty little face,
was chased by a pack of
dogz-in-the-Cleveland-hood into my husband's
arms back in 1974. David
named him after Jason of the Golden Fleece
and spent the next year
ridding him of ear mites, fleas, and worms.
The "boys" spent 21 years
together, Jason grabbing for every scrap of
life with gusto and courage
despite many illnesses. David remembers, "a
year before he died, we
thought his time had come. We took him to the
vet, and I asked Jason,
'is it time?' Jason looked me right in the
eyes, and said, 'I want to
go home.' So I took him home." One year
later, he died in David's
arms. He's guarding our home in West Virginia
now, buried on a ridge
behind the house, near the woodpile he loved
to explore. Our buddy.
-Phyllis Gubanc and Mike, Charlie, and Pauline
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