We had to say our final farewell to Betty tonight. It was not a complete surprise, but thankfully, it all happened quickly. She was quirky and weird and wonderful. She had no instincts and was not what you might call affectionate, but somehow managed to be endlessly entertaining and managed to capture the hearts of everyone she met. Back in the day she was even quite the celebrity of State Street in Chicago, always being stopped by strangers wanting to meet her, even tourists asking to pose with photos of her. We loved her dearly and she will be missed.
Nite-nite, my Betty-Boo. Go find it...
"What can you expect from a bunch of seitan worshippers?" - Reginald Tresilian
If we're not having fun, then why are we doing it?
These are DISCUSSION boards, not mutual admiration boards. Discussion only occurs when we are willing to hear what others are thinking, regardless of whether it is alignment to our own thoughts.
Sympathies. Kiplings poem is my fav on this subject.
The Power of the Dog
There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy Love unflinching that cannot lie -- Perfect passion and worship fed By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits, And the vet's unspoken prescription runs To lethal chambers or loaded guns, Then you will find -- it's your own affair -- But . . . you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will, With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!) When the spirit that answered your every mood Is gone -- wherever it goes -- for good, You will discover how much you care, And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way, When it comes to burying Christian clay. Our loves are not given, but only lent, At compound interest of cent per cent. Though it is not always the case, I believe, That the longer we've kept'em, the more do we grieve;
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong, A short-time loan is as bad as a long -- So why in -- Heaven (before we are there) Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Thank you so much, guys. I knew it would be soon and had been seriously preparing for it for about a year, but it was still rough. The house feels totally different without her.
"What can you expect from a bunch of seitan worshippers?" - Reginald Tresilian
Ol Keenan, the senior I adopted three years ago and went through brain surgery two years ago to remove a golf ball sized tumor behind his right eye died last Saturday. He was awake at one moment, laid down and sighed and was gone. He was 17. I truly understand the grief if losing "special" dogs!
Those Blocked: SueStorm. N2N Nate. Good riddence to stupid! Rad-Z, shill begone!