Waiting at the Rainbow Bridge
sue.t wrote: I'm wondering if we should also have a sticky that lets us post obituaries & pics of our dearly departed pets? Maybe a "Rainbow Bridge" sticky? It would be sad and happy. It is very sad...
Forum Discussion
Frack was the epitome of a cool cat. Anyone who knew him knew that. He had been orphaned when only a couple days old. My late wife and I raised him with an eye dropper, then with a doll's baby bottle. Maybe that's one reason he was so sociable.
I swear he could speak our language. When we'd hear him "scratching" at our bed or making some other kind of noises, Katy would call out in a melodic tone, "Ohhh Fraaaak", and he'd spring effortlessly and softly onto the bed and reply in a similar tone, "Yeaaaah?" And we'd both burst out laughing.
Even though he was declawed, he took no cr*p from anyone. Our old next door neighbor had a nasty Rottweiler -- so mean he once jumped halfway over our fence to take a nip at my neck when I was mowing the lawn. I didn't like him and neither did Frack. We once caught Frack reaching through that fence with both paws, slapping that Rottweiler silly. He had moxie!
He also remembered when someone picked on him. Just ask my grandkids. They could pull his tail and get away with it... for awhile. Then later he'd tackle them... or get their heads between his paws and slap -- or more accurately -- pound them like a boxer with left-right jabs!
Our old Yorkie, Katie, liked to lie in wait for Frack to come through the pet door from the garage and spring at him. Frack would "ignore" her for awhile and prance off like he had better things to do. Then later, after Katie was snuggled under our covers at night, Frack would pounce 6-8 feet through the air from the top of our dresser to that lump under the covers. Katie would come out snapping and yapping, but by the time she emerged Frack was nowhere to be found. He was one coolly calculating cat.
But most of all Frack was a loving family member. He'd get his 10 minutes of lovin when we first went to bed, then leave us alone until later when I'd roll over to go to sleep. It never failed, no matter when or how quietly I rolled over and no matter where he was in the house, within a minute he'd jump back on the bed with his face an inch in front of mine, and we'd play this little game of whose "paw" was on top of whose. I wanted mine on top of his to keep him away so his whiskers didn't tickle my face, but he wanted the upper hand. Always we'd compromise -- I'd have my hand on top of one paw, and his other paw would be on top of my hand. We'd both fall asleep that way. His purring was my white noise.
He wasn't there last night. I missed him. I opened my eyes once, shortly after rolling over, and thought I saw him, lying there staring at me. But it was only in my mind.
And I miss him now. He's supposed to be sprawled out on top of my monitor, paws blocking part of the screen, maybe swatting at the moving text. Or sitting on my lap purring. But he's not here. He's gone to be with his mother, his brother, and Katie. (I hope he doesn't torment Katie too much!)
Rest in peace Li'l Buddy. You'll always be in my heart.
I swear he could speak our language. When we'd hear him "scratching" at our bed or making some other kind of noises, Katy would call out in a melodic tone, "Ohhh Fraaaak", and he'd spring effortlessly and softly onto the bed and reply in a similar tone, "Yeaaaah?" And we'd both burst out laughing.
Even though he was declawed, he took no cr*p from anyone. Our old next door neighbor had a nasty Rottweiler -- so mean he once jumped halfway over our fence to take a nip at my neck when I was mowing the lawn. I didn't like him and neither did Frack. We once caught Frack reaching through that fence with both paws, slapping that Rottweiler silly. He had moxie!
He also remembered when someone picked on him. Just ask my grandkids. They could pull his tail and get away with it... for awhile. Then later he'd tackle them... or get their heads between his paws and slap -- or more accurately -- pound them like a boxer with left-right jabs!
Our old Yorkie, Katie, liked to lie in wait for Frack to come through the pet door from the garage and spring at him. Frack would "ignore" her for awhile and prance off like he had better things to do. Then later, after Katie was snuggled under our covers at night, Frack would pounce 6-8 feet through the air from the top of our dresser to that lump under the covers. Katie would come out snapping and yapping, but by the time she emerged Frack was nowhere to be found. He was one coolly calculating cat.
But most of all Frack was a loving family member. He'd get his 10 minutes of lovin when we first went to bed, then leave us alone until later when I'd roll over to go to sleep. It never failed, no matter when or how quietly I rolled over and no matter where he was in the house, within a minute he'd jump back on the bed with his face an inch in front of mine, and we'd play this little game of whose "paw" was on top of whose. I wanted mine on top of his to keep him away so his whiskers didn't tickle my face, but he wanted the upper hand. Always we'd compromise -- I'd have my hand on top of one paw, and his other paw would be on top of my hand. We'd both fall asleep that way. His purring was my white noise.
He wasn't there last night. I missed him. I opened my eyes once, shortly after rolling over, and thought I saw him, lying there staring at me. But it was only in my mind.
And I miss him now. He's supposed to be sprawled out on top of my monitor, paws blocking part of the screen, maybe swatting at the moving text. Or sitting on my lap purring. But he's not here. He's gone to be with his mother, his brother, and Katie. (I hope he doesn't torment Katie too much!)
Rest in peace Li'l Buddy. You'll always be in my heart.
