Passings

[BO]

Dan Folgelberg dies of prostrate cancer. 56 years old.

http://www.danfogelberg.com/news.html

I loved this guy--sappy music and all.

[pan]

Thanks to all for your kind words.   I am reminded why the RBC is special.

[littleoldme]

Sorry my friend that you have lost one of yours.

[waldopaper]

Kismet. 

About noon on International Talk-Like-A-Pirate day... which just happened to be my 63rd birthday... the best dog ever drew her last breath on the kitchen floor in her favorite spot where she guarded her bowl from those damn cats.  It was a Monday.  On Tuesday, the farm-vet was going to make a house-call to help her along.  Kismet was always wary of strangers and needles... so she beat the rap.  She was at least 16 years old.  She had a good run.  Will have more to say about Kismet.  Goodbye, puppy. Arrgh... ye furry swab. 

 

[pan]

Oh Waldo....these damn animals have a way of insinuating themselves into our lives. And the void they leave when they are gone is immense.  That is a beautiful photo of a loved member of your clan.  To Kismet! and to Waldo!

[BO]

Condolences, Waldo. Always tough when we lose a member of our household. That picture brought tears to me own eyes. So sorrowful. Think I had to re-grieve every pet I've ever had.

On the other hand, happy birthday to ya...ye old scallywag. Right behind ya. Here's to living during interesting times. And being too old to give a fuck.

R.I.P. dear Kismet.

[littleoldme]

I'm so sorry Waldo.

[waldopaper]

My Little Girls 

Aye, they grow up too quick, they do.  Here were me little girls, 16 years ago... one is a daughter- Amelia, the other is a dog, Kismet.  Dogs age faster than people.  Today Amelia believes she has finally found her path... the theater... but the little puppy knew her part the moment she came to live with us.  All the critters in the area, possum raccoon... even skunk had to deal with the brown fuzz-ball mapping out territory with inquisitive sniffer and stout little legs.  She protected the children, and followed them wherever they went... even those not in our immediate charge.  That is how Kismet was captured and got mandatory chip and spay in her second year: following children to school. 

Kismet's keen black nose plotted out space for her own humans, and she guarded those bounds for the rest of her long dog life.  She was a quiet and gentle companion, yet would charge and devour any interloping critter capable of malice or mischief.  Kismet had her own vocabulary and very expressive ears to instruct her family on sound and smell and folded herself well into vehicle on so many trips to the Great Lake.  She grew too old to travel well.  Seemed to like pensive time home alone.  "She has bug-eyes," said Amelia when they were both little girls. Now there is only one girl in my twilight state to treasure until I meet little wag-tail puppy Kismet at the great gate to eternity. 

Now Sid and I are left to bark at the stupid-heads. Kismet got a puppy when she was older to teach all those old dog things.  She snarled at him first, then licked him for a while and finally ignored him.  Sid is a Border Collie type mutt... your generic black-and-white with slant dog-eyes, not round bug-eyes.  The round brown eyes and expressive ears did not bode well on Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day.  She had said this before, but she was a tough old dog.  Her eyes were closed and she sighed with an ear scratch.  In the time it took to pour a cup of coffee and turn around, she was gone.  Peaceful-like... darting off toward the gate.  If the sun is warm on your face and the wind is at your back...

You are in the Elysian Fields and you're already dead!  The things we do in this life echo in eternity.  Glad he ate her,  And so old man time will swallow us all.  Gallon or a dram.  Blessing or a dam dog died and eyed a rat to play duh blew swayed shoes tracking in lapping water beach and wind up little bubba-toy puppy tagging along.  Those were fine days.  Glad we had them.  Compost modern is coming, and so is Winter.  Winter and Summer are my little girls.  The boys spring and fall over the turning blue marble and rising and setting son is off on his own coarse two.  It's been a good run and it ain't over yet  and you bet you can have another.  The boys are my pride and joist butt. 

Eye will always love my little girls. 

 

[pan]

Hard to read when I have welled up tears blurring my vision.  Your writing, as always, leaves me humbled and somewhat awed by the emotions you cause in me.

 

We buried Fatty down the hill under the beautiful Elm trees that locals call weeds because they are so well adapted to the dry seasons and alkaline soil.  A broken plaster Buddha full of belly caught in perpetual mirth now marks the site where the skinny body of what was once the Fat Cat lies.

[BO]

I had the same reaction while transfixed on Kismet's photo yesterday. Broke down in tears. I don't think I ever really had a chance to grieve my own father's death--having been embroiled in a law suit with his bitch second wife and her evil offspring over farm property willed to my brother and I. Now that it's been settled, I feel like there's a lot of pent-up emotion that I haven't dealt with. And Kismet's photo allowed a bit of it to seep out. 

Truth is, I probably love my pets more than most people. Never been screwed over by one of them. And they love you relentlessly.

[Cal]

Beautiful picture of Kismet ... and RIP Fatty.  It's a year since my shy, gentle lab Amber died.  I think she's in the same heaven as the others ... maybe they've all met up there & have an animal RBC going -:)

 

I am without the rest of my dogs at the moment as I've escaped the real world again & hit the road in the Kruger Park again.  Twice in one year ... what a privilege!  It took me a whole week to unwind from the 'real world' bullshit ... and I've got two glorious weeks left here.  It's not just dogs & cats I love a good deal more than any people - it's the whole world of wild critters out there too.  While I was sitting outside my bungalow this afternoon I saw a whole herd of elephants silently gliding through the bush outside the fence here as they came up from the river & melted over the hill.  Wondrous beasts!

 

[waldopaper]

Pechus 

Male black and white cat, newest member of the group, hit by a car a couple of days ago.  He danced through a summer kitten-hood as a new we got too many dam cats.  Amelia thought Pechus could fill in for Erie, who died last year.  Never got to know him very well.  Pechus, that is.  He matched Sid, and seemed especially fond of Chris (one of the kids).  Kids, cats, Saxon lives.  How many were going to St. Ives?  "Pechus" (pronounced PAY-chooss) is a word Amelia made up for "monster" when she was little.  Like "Cookie Pechus."  He got along with Yam and Skyler, the old orange guys who dominate the cat world here.  There's another black and white, a female, I forget her name. 

I think Pechus was one of her kits. 

 

[pan]

Etta James