I 'm sending you all happy thoughts, I hope things brighten up for you soon.

Don't forget to eat lots of chocolate. Best thing for a grieving heart.

i must say that green bean casserole is one of my favorite comfort foods, if not my absolute favorite, and that i am going to go home and make this version tonight! thank you!

take care of yourself<3

I read over some of your older posts about Roy, which I felt was a bit of a tribute. You can feel the love in the writing. But, remember, there is something called karma. Perhaps... one day, Roy will come back as a blogger and put funny captions under photos of YOU! I'd like to see what he says.

Oh sweetie, Roy is someone you put a whole lot of LOVE into and also got a whole lot back from. The two of you were meant to be together and did loads and loads of good for each other. You are quite entitled to your extra helpings of casserole and I hope you enjoy every bite. You deserve it for being the wonderful loving person you are.

There is just no way to prepare for the death of a loved one, animal or person, and no way to get over it but to think of all the good times you had, and wait for time to ease the pain and loss.
Joking and chocolate and wine and keeping busy an distracted are good ways to get through it while the time passes though...
Am so sorry for your loss *hugs*

So, I sent you an email about your knitting bag, and then, I read this. I am so sorry. Forgive me!!! I am sorry for your passing.

If you ever need a quick fix, I actually think the jolly green giant version of green bean casserole is pretty good.

I am a total nut over my cat (pseudo: stinkerbelle). I had to take her to the emergency vet a few months ago because she wasn't able to pee. When I was reading the consent form, I started sobbing because it scared the bejeebus out of me. Everyone there stared at the crazy cat lady sobbing into her kitten's fur (okay, so she is 13, but she's still a kitten to me). But over the course of the evening, every single person in that waiting room cried at one point or another. It was majorly bonding (even though no one talked to anyone else).

A friend's cat was put to sleep recently, and when I found out, I did the same thing as you: I rushed to find stinkerbelle, clutched her to me as I sobbed into her fur and begged her to never ever get sick or leave me. Problem is, when i cry, she likes to bite me. Which only makes me cry more.

Do you watch america's next top comic (or whatever the hell it is called)? I've not watched it before, but one of the comics this season is a crazy cat lady, and I adore her.

Dammit woman, you're making me cry AGAIN. You are 100% entitled to feel the way you do - I would have to be institutionalized if something happened to my Buster kitty, aka Shoo-Man-Foo - and I'm not exaggerating. Stay strong, woman - you're one tough cookie and I'd give the use of both my legs to have even HALF the strength that you do. Roy would not want, though, for you to be so sad and lost...damn it, crying again....

Find the Funny. Southern women, in particular Southern Baptist Women, are ritualistic about births, deaths and weddings. There will be FOOD (fat, salt, flavor), there will be shoulders to cry on with joy or with sadness, and there will be funny memories and smiles. Eat some casserole for Me and Roy.

Cindi

Sounds like you have the perfect menu lined up. If a casserole and wine won't help, nothin will!

Remember the good times you and Roy had together. I'm sure that Roy wouldn't want to mope about and you still have other cats to love. Just concentrate on the dash between the dates of his life. The dash is the most important: it is what he did during his life (with you!) that matters.
p.s. green bean casserole is great. It's a family tradition to eat it at Thanksgiving.
:)

Hunny, I collect vintage clothes. Do you think I could get my hands on that tie? I promise to take good care of it!

I am just glad you are all right.....I felt the same way when Timothy went away. I have the PsychoBaby now, which helps somewhat--which is not to say she is a replacement for him.

Are you coming to SnB on Saturday?

The strange thing is as others have said in many of the posts, we feel as though we know you and are grieving along with you. You make us happy every day, you are allowed to feel sad for such a wonderful loving animal. Hope the other cats are faring well. Nice security guy to hold onto your bag, don't beat yourself up for that, you have a lot on your mind. Take care. My best to you.
gayle

Your tribute to Roy made me go home and hug my sweet kitty Bailey a little tighter and give her bunches of kisses (which she did not seem to enjoy so much). It's amazing what those little critters can do to our hearts. Hope you're feeling better soon.

I'm a Georgia gal and I love me some green bean casserole! Enjoy the whole darn pan.

And um, how about this?

Q: What does a rabbit sing during an Opera solo?

A: A HARIA!!!

Q: What do you call it when all the bunnies in the forest decide to hop down the bunny trails at the same time?

A: THUMPER TO THUMPER TRAFFIC!!!!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
marcia

Mmmmm..green bean casserole sounds goooood. Sounds to me like you're doing a great job dealing with his passing. I lost my dog (read: sister, mother, best friend) 7 years ago and the thought of her still takes my breath away. I miss her something bad, but the tears now are mostly happy/grateful tears, no longer sad and mournful ones.

What wonderful gifts you and Roy were to each other! Your strong cat grief is evidence of that. Don't expect it to leave you too soon. It will creep up and surprise you awhile from now, just like an actual cat. I know. And your variation on green bean casserole sounds great. As a Canadian with Floridian roots, I have discovered there are some things that people just don't "get" in the same way unless they have southern family. One is green bean casserole, and another is relatives with weird names. You made me feel nostalgic for my southern family, simply because your uncles are named Mouse and Ronnel. Nobody up here thinks I'm telling the truth when I mention Aunt Puss and Uncle Bullie Boy. They were SO real people!! Wishing you comfort.

I just wanted to let you know that, in honor of Roy, I sang your song to my kitty (Ash) this morning. He looked at me, said "Woooowwww", then bit my nose. That's his equivalent of a wet, smooshy kiss, so I think he liked it. (I also sang it to my five year old...he looked at me like I was crazy, then scooted about two feet away from me on the couch. Kids.)

As the owner of a cat who thinks I'm his mom and who shadows me throughout the day, I can only imagine how much you'll miss Roy, and I'm so sorry for your loss.

I cried at your post. Again. But this time, I was laughing too. I'm sending healing vibes your way. Enjoy your casserole and wine.

Hang in there, sweetie. It's so hard. I'm sending all my love and hugs.

I also find that making jokes helps in a sad situation. Just before my Julie was put to sleep 2 weeks ago I told her that she was a giant pain-in-my-ass most of the time but that's what I loved about her most. She licked me and passed away. She knew.

Love you, honey. It'll get better, I promise.

Thanks for sharing the casserole recipe...it sounds like just the thing to have when you're mourning a good friend.

I remember making jokes at my grandma's funeral...I think we might've offended some of the church ladies unintentionally, but they knew how my grandma was so they might've understood.

One of the first dishes we received from church people was a big pot of delicious sloppy joes (you know...the sandwich filling stuff). For some reason, my cousins started announcing every food delivery with, "another pot of slop!" And then we would giggle as we tried to make room for the slop in the fridge or on the counter.

Also, I had an unfortunate (if you ask my mom) laughing incident at the actual graveside that day. My sister had been complaining since the visitation the night before because she HATED the woman who worked at the funeral home (kind of like a wedding planner...always bossy and always in the way). Unbeknownst to me, this same sister also had a major problem with the idea of being buried alive, and had never been at a graveside before when the coffin was lowered. So, to cope with her panic at seing my grandma's coffin lowered (with grandma's body in it, of course) my sister just kept whispering "she's not really there, she's not really there" over and over. Well...at the same time, the funeral lady was messing around the graveside...fixing flowers and just busying herself with the scene. It was getting on my nerves, and I assumed my sister was even more peeved because she was trying to wish this woman out of existence with the mantra, "she's not really there." For some reason, I found this really hilarious and started laughing through really blubbery tears. I've never laughed and cried like that since. My sisters thought I'd lost it, but didn't ask until we were back in the car. When I told my big sister that I thought SHE'D lost it for fixating on the funeral home woman, we all had the biggest laugh.

It seems to me that Southern women also have the desire to distract folks from their grief with long stories (as evidenced by this comment). I'm still sending good thoughts your way...

pets are people to me. sometimes i feel closer to them than to humans. if i even start to think about my kitties or my pup passing i will have a full on crying fit.

bake a casserole, drink some wine, leave your purse in random places- grieve in the way you need to. and take good care of yourself.

What's the difference between a toad and a horny toad?
One says "Ribbit ribbit," the other says "Rub it rub it."

Okay, so that was my lame attempt at making you laugh... I'm so sorry to hear about your sweet Roy. Thank you for sharing all of your stories and photos of him with us. Just know that because of you, his life was much happier and snugglier.

Now you've got me laughing *and* crying. Oh, Laurie, I am so sorry about Roy (and the handbag and the "is she really crazy this time" looks from the other kitties and all of it, but mostly about Roy.) It is a remarkable thing to be everything someone else ever wants and you were that to him. How lucky that you had each other for the time that you did.

Enjoy your green bean casserole (one of my very favorites, though I never thought to put cheese in it! must try that some time...) and wine. ((hugs))

I know what you mean about humor and grief. It's part of our family's coping mechanism too. After my mom passed away, we were all in the room with her body, before they took her away, just sitting around, spending our last moments with her. And my brother made a very inappropriate comment about what kind of sex she would be having in heaven. We laughed, and then snorted and then cried.

It was cathartic.

I am praying for you Laurie...
Praying for peace to be all over you while you grieve.

btw (I am the idiot who said "Bob" instead of Roy yesterday.... forgive me please?)

Nah. You're not delusional. You're human.
I can only think of sad things to say, because I'm thinking of the cats and dog I've loved and... I'd say lost, but I know exactly what happened. I was there, holding them close. Have a hug with those beans. And me? I can has chocolate?

It hurts so damn much because he was so loved, but he loved you too, so enjoy your casserole and wine and get yourself lots of kitty love! There's nothing like getting some cats all nipped up and having a glass of wine to cheer a person up a bit.
I'm going to nip our cats in Roy's honor.

Every time I think about how much I want to accidentally leave the door open for my two massive, long-haired cats to accidentally walk out through, I will think about how much you love Roy and I will shut the door and go and give them each a hug. You've made me appreciate my kitties more than I have in a while!

Oh honey, I think it's just funny that you say you didn't realize how attached you got to Roy. I think all your readers knew :)

Just the other day my mother was in the emergency clinic with her sickly kitty. I think the only thing that keeps us remotely sane after times like that is knowing that every single other person in that clinic is there because they feel the same way as you about an animal, and they won't judge you at all. Security guards.. that's another matter.

Even the Northeastern Irish handle grief with laughter and food (and open bars!)
So enjoy your wine, and your casserole (still one of my favorite dishes ever - but I do mine with the cream of mushroom, being vegetarian and all)
The only thing you're really missing from the equation is maybe some potato salad. and cookies.

Sending love and hugs your way!!!! I'll be sans internet for two weeks while I'm away and the sad thing is: I'll miss you! Miss hearing about the changes & going-ons of Chez Purl - and reading all the great comments from your readers. I'll have a lot of catching up to do at the end of the month!

hugs,
Julianne

I've been to that Ralphs, there was a cute checkout girl who always commented on how tiny my purses were...maybe she'd seen yours, eh?

Sending big hugs and happy thoughts, I'm crap at telling jokes so won't even bother...take care

I've just got to ask. The casserole sounds good, but Canned Fried Onions? I've never seen those (in the UK). How does that work? Is it like a can-full of onions fried until golden brown?

Honey, you eat, sleep, cry and LAUGH all you want to. Roy wasn't your cat -- he was your oldest son. No mom is expected to bounce back right away.
Heck, I never even pet Roy and I'm (again) tearing up at work just thinking about you and that handsome guy. (I was relating the tale of Roy's origins to my husband last night and cried for you when I had to get to the passing away part.)

Hugs from the "innernets" and take care. Don't worry if the sun isn't too shiny just yet, but maybe think about tying your purse to your belt or something, just to avoid further public displays while you're in a delicate state.

Laurie...

Making jokes when someone or something dies is so totally natural and I doubt has anything to do with being from the South because my family does the same thing and none of us are Southern. I'll tell you two stories illustrating this...

I was 16 years old when my great-grandmother died. While we were sitting in church and the priest was doing the eulogy, all I could think of was the time we were all together for Thanksgiving and my uncles put a whoopy cushion on her chair. As she sat down it let out this thunderous fart noise and we all fell apart laughing. She just sat there totally poised, shaking her head in disgust. It took all my will power not to laugh at loud at this thought while we were in church.

My step-father passed away a little over 2 years ago, and it was devastating because it was very sudden and unexpected. My husband, daughter and I had to fly from our home in Massachusetts to California for the memorial and the whole way there I was dreading it. I loved my step-father very much and he was the first person I lost that I was very close to. When we got to California and my mother's house, the whole family sat and talked about him. The one story I kept coming back to was the time he was trying to squeeze mustard onto a hot dog but was having trouble doing so. I sat and watched him thinking "That bottle is not open. He has to know that...". Just then he put a He-Man death grip on that bottle and squeezed with all his might. The top of the bottle blasted off and mustard went everywhere. I started roaring and he just slowly turned to me and said "You knew the bottle wasn't open, didn't you?" then we both started laughing.

It is totally normal to make jokes and laugh at a time of loss. As my father told me once "When you can't find humor, you're screwed."

And leaving your purse at a market in LA? I would probably do that on a good day. :)

Ummm green beans!

My brother's 70s polyester suit and platform shoes at my nephew's (16 and committed suicide) funeral. Afterwards at my sisters house we all made him do the "Big Shoe Dance" ala Pee Wee Herman. http://www.tvdance.com/peewee/

It does help to laugh and remember all the happiness you shared.

Life is tough but keep hope that tomorrow will be better.

I just started reading a book called "Animals as Teachers and Healers" by Susan Chernak McElroy. It is a chronicle of stories from people about the non-human angels in their lives. I would recommend it as reading during your grieving for Roy. My prayers are with you and your remaining fuzzy angels.

I got my long legged red head, Jennifer from a shelter when she was only 4 weeks old. She was a wild child and she didn't like anyone in the world but me. We had a special song, too, oddly enough it was "Free Falling" by Tom Petty. "She's a good girl, loves her mama,...." I sang it to her daily for 16 years. She out lasted my marriage and was my constant source of love and companionship. When the cancer monster reared it's ugly head I had to make the hardest decision of my life and let her go. To say I cried would be an understatement. I missed a day of work and didn't hesitate to admit why.

I hear our song on the radio every so often and I'm certain that it is the earth telling me that Jennifer is thinking of me just like I'm thinking of her.

God bless you in this sad time, Laurie. I wish I could give you a hug.

when my father was teaching his last semester at school? and my grandma had moved up from florida to die from cancer? and i was up in michigan because my parents wouldn't let me come back because it was "too complicated" to have another person in the scenario? my mother broke her back.

i may possibly have sent her flowers in the hospital that said, "i didn't mean to step on that crack, mom, honest!" the nurses were not amused, but my mom sure was.

hope the casserole helps. might i also suggest pie?

You're not handling it badly, honey; losing a pet is exactly this hard, because no one gives us more unconditional love than our pets. Those of us who have lost pets recognize everything you're saying, including the wine and green-bean casserole.

Love the story of Uncle Ronnel's tie, btw. :)

Q. What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?
A. A stick.

(((hugs!)))

I'm Irish. We also laugh at funerals. In fact, my grandfather's funeral (whom I loved dearly) was one of the best parties I've ever attended.

We stand around and tell stories and remember our dearly departed in the best possible light. We talk about how we'll miss them... and we celebrate their lives. It doesn't mean we're not sad and that we don't miss them. I miss my grandfather a lot, tho he's been dead for 18 years. It just means that the last party "with" them was remembering the fun and the silly and the best.

I don't know how to explain it. It weirds my southern husband out. But it works for us :)

I doubt you'll ever not miss him. My cat, Tabby, has been dead for more than 30 years and I still think about her once in a while... and remember her dignity and silliness. The grief does pass, tho.

(And at least you had an excuse for leaving your purse. I left mine in the cart the other day with my new laptop in it! Fortunately I live in a small town. Everything was in there, just fine. MY NEW WORK LAPTOP! ARGH! My heart nearly stopped! )

What Rie said.

When we had to put our cat Micron (who started as a teeny, tiny white kitten and morphed into a ginormous espresso-black Siamese) to sleep, EVERYBODY in the clinic was crying, including the big, manly, 60-ish vet. I'm just sayin', vet clinics are used to it.

When my brother died, his funeral was in a small chapel in a really big church. After the service, we all "processed" from the chapel to the columbarium to bury his ashes... this whole pack of people trailing behind the priest, walking and walking and walking and walking... it reminded me of some old Monty Python skit with "The Bishop." My brother just loved Monty Python, so I was having a hard time not laughing.

How can you write so well when you feel so bad?

Ice cream! That makes everything feel better. At least for a while.

Hang in there, Laurie. I know it sucks. But, you are such a strong girl, and you will make it through this heartache.

Where *IS* Uncle Ronnel's tie? While the memory of it surely seems crystal clear, I'll bet it would be great to have around the house right about now.

May you be surrounded by the most scenic of neckties from here on out.

I was the same way after my Stimpy went over the Bridge. Although, thankfully, I didn't leave my purse anywhere (NYC subway!). I'd wanted to take time off from work, but a co-worker's mother died the same day, so I knew not to ask. ("You want to take time off for what?!") My girls weren't too keen on the whole scoop up & get loved on either. ("Ma! Put me down! NOW!")

The casserole sounds great! Thanks for the recipe :)

*HUGS*

Everyone at the vet's office understood your pain, I'm sure. I've had the vet cry with me and my husband on at least two occasions. I'm sure everyone's heart was with yours.

Personally, I would hate to be a person who could/would not express/experience grief at the loss of a loved one.

I'm so glad your purse is okay. I cannot imagine you having to go thru the hell that is involved in replacing all the Purse Equipment while grieving for Roy.

Hang in there, girl.

Your funeral story reminded me of the oddest one I ever went to. My husband's mother passed away and as we were driving to the funeral in southern Kentucky he said that his nephew would be there. This particular nephew was incarcerated in the state penitentiary at the time-long, sad tale involving stupidity and drugs. I thought my husband was delusional, but as we pulled into the funeral home parking lot, so did a car from the prison system containing 2 large armed deputies-in case the family ttried to break him out- and my husband's nephew in orange jump suit and shackles on wrists and ankles. Everyone else in my husband's family was acting AS IF THIS WERE NORMAL! I was struck speechless. Apparently families can pay for this sort of thing. Even Jeff Foxworthy couldn't make up something like that.
Enjoy your casserole and wine.
I was hugging my 2 kitties rather obsessively last night. I think they were glad to see me leavr for work this morning.

I think you are just great! You're not any crazier than you were before Roy's passing.

If it makes you feel better, I kept bursting into tears all afternoon and evening on Weds. I kept thinking about Roy and you and my beloved fuzzers who've passed on and how heartbreaking it is and I'd start crying. I even started when my hairdresser was finishing up my trim. Thankfully, she's an animal lover, too, and completely understood. She got a bit sniffly when I told her about you and Roy. I looked LOVELY at Trader Joe's with red eyes and wet hair. Any other store wouldn't have let me in.

You do whatever feels right, including eating a whole greenbean caserole (YUM!) and drinking wine. I don't think you ever get over a loved one's death, but I think you get used to missing them over time. That's when you can start thinking about them and smile instead of cry.

PS Thank you for the great recipe!

*
Your writing is just the best, my dear.
May it never cease.

*

Laurie,

I wanted to let you know that "He's not the sort who spends his days in suits and ties, and we can only assume on Sundays he and the Lord tip hats privately, and one of those hats probably has a John Deere logo on it." is the best sentence I have ever read in my entire life.

Also, thanks in part to your blogging (and Ravelry), a local knitter I had never met and myself went to the Farmer's Market SnB last night. We're going to return and teach spinning! I hope you're there - drop spindles make great cat toys.

I once left my ginormous purse hanging in a bathroom stall at Target. It was still there 5 minutes later. In my defense, I was wrangling a small child. But still- the bag is huge.

xoxoxoxo

I'm so sorry to hear about Roy. You're lucky to have found each other.

Btw, Roy was part of your family. So when you're blubbering to the security guard "I'm so sorry. There was a death in the family" is the only explanation he needs. Really.

Take care of yourself. (((hugs)))

I have attended the funerals of both my parents and just thinking of Puddy (my Roy) passing rips me to pieces. That love is endless. hang in there.

Mmmmmm. Green Bean Casserole. Might just have to have that tonight and join you. I haven't made it in a while. It's like chicken & dressing in the fact that I usually only made them for special occasions.

I hope you feel better soon. I know it's hard. Roy-Boy is a happy, young, & healthy kitty now and waiting just inside those pearly gates for the day when you arrive. Maybe he'll hang with Elvis a bit while he's there and teach him the REAL way to have a cute sneer, thankyouverymuuuuuch.

By-the-way: "Tump" IS a word. I use it often. It means "turned upside down" or "turned over", for those of you who don't understand. And, if you are a TRUE Southerner, you understand there is a difference between "over there" and "over yonder", the latter meaning farther away. LOL

*********
A skeleton walks into a bar and says, "I'd like a beer and a mop, please."
*********

I told my daddy that dumb joke at a funeral. It took him a couple of minutes before he got it. Couldn't stop him when he (eventually) started laughing. LOUD. That joke may have put us both right square in the middle of hell.

Anykindahow, hugs to you and the furry three.

:(

I understand grief. I'm considering a $$$$ shrine to the Jaggers. I was sitting in the vet's parking lot last nite, doing the same body-wrenching cry, and it's been six weeks.

Did you really read every last comment? Again, your supernatural powers amaze me.

Oh, honey, Southern funerals are the BEST. That is where you catch up on all the gossip and can tell every funny story you ever know about the dearly departed. And then hear everyone else's in return.

And then?

You eat green bean casserole and biscuits and mashed potatoes. And drink wine. (Or beer. Or margaritas. Or moonshine, as at one funeral that I attended recently.)

You're doing just fine.

I left my billfold in the Ladies at my favorite Greek restaurant one night. And they even announced it and I still zoned out and left it there. Thank goodness Mr. Chris called me and held onto it so I could pick it up.

And Uncle Ronnel and Uncle Mouse? Some of the best Southern names ever. God love 'em. I had an Aunt Freddie and my husband had an Uncle Ira Ray. Try saying that without running it all together. Can't be done! For the longest time, I thought his name was Iray.

I feel your pain, Laurie. I still miss my Simba even after 7 or more years. I had to go home and hug all my kitties and they looked at me like I'd gone mental!

Chin up and when the going gets rough - there's always chocolate.

Oh Laurie, I'm so sorry to hear about Roy. Our animals are the best family anyone could have. Enjoy your casserole and memories.

May I make a suggestion? I am southern as well...and I am responsible for the Green Bean Casserole every year at Thanksgiving and I wholeheartedly recommend adding bacon. And some of the grease. It exponentially increases the already present awesomeness that is GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE! And considering the circumstances...I think the extra calories are in order. Totally justifiable, in fact.

I agree with everyone else...you're perfectly normal! Roy was a part of your family and will be missed for a long, long time, even by Soba (though I'm sure she'll deny it!)

Here's my small attempt at making you laugh. I was next to my grandma at one of my great aunt's funeral. We're at the mass and a soloisit gets up to sing one of the aunt's favorite songs, "You'll Never Walk Alone". My grandmother (who was quite deaf) said in a voice that she thought only I could hear (but in reality, everyone in the pews around us did--I know because they were laughing as well)"She'll never walk alone? Helen'll never walk again!" I haven't laughed that hard since. Or gotten more dirty looks.

Thanks for the recipe, I'm going to have to try that one of these days.

When I read abt Roy's passing, I cried at work (I was at the reference desk of a college science & engineering library - nerds don't cry so I had to leave a lot), I cried all the way home, and then I cried when I saw my Wee Beasties when I got home. I did the same thing, I picked each one of them up and made them promise never to leave me. Sophie & Max couldn't wait to get down, Sammy wanted to know why I wasn't taking him to food.

You're going to need time to heal. Roy wasn't just a cat - he was YOUR cat and we thank you for his story.

Thanks for the recipe! That looks awesome, as a single-woman i used to make the "more traditional" version and eat the whole thing by myself.... urp.

Yummy though. Thanks for sharing :)

I called in sick a couple of years ago when my cat died. If anyone thought it was strange they didn't dare say anything to me.

A long time ago I took several days off of work to care for my boyfriend's cat during his final days. My boss at the time said he hoped that when it was his time someone would be there to take care of him the way I took care of that cat.

I think we all need rituals to help us through significant points in our lives, the good and the bad whether it be a casserole, a public meltdown or just a good long loud cleansing cry.

I make casseroles when I'm greiving cause:
1. I'm Half Southern
2. I love to cook and a big ol casserole will take my mind off said grief if only for a bit.
3. Any dish that you can prepare once and eat for a few days without a knife or really even putting it on a seperate plate, yes I'll eat it straight out of the dish all cold from the fridge.
Anyways so so so sorry for you loss again.
Glad you got your purse back, I once left my wallet on top of my car on SUNSET BLVD in HOLLYWOOD ON A FRIDAY NIGHT and relised is like 30 min later and went back and it was still there.

also...you are the second person I've ever heard use the word "tump" and the first person was also southern...hmmmmm

For more excellent Southernisms, not to mention killer funeral recipes, I highly recommend "Being Dead is No Excuse: The Official Southern Ladies Guide to Hosting the Perfect Funeral". You will laugh your butt off and it will make you feel better.

I'm doing my part to make you chuckle:

A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him...............A super callioused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

Lori, I have done the same wailing thing...so embarrassing but so needed! There is nothing like an incredibly strong animal/human connection. It's primal and as such requires the same mourning of our primal instincts! Peace to you and the pack!

Don't feel like you need to make excuses for your grief. When I lost my 2 year old cat, it took me the better part of a year to be able to say her name without bursting into tears. My husband cried too, and he NEVER cries. And when we had to put the 15 year old cat to sleep, I thought I would be able to handle it fine because she'd been going downhill for a while, but no. I still cried like a baby.

So don't feel bad for being emotional. Obviously, you are not alone :)

Laurie, have I got a casserole recipe for you...it will use up at least some of that zuccchini you have, plus it's got Stove Top stuffing and cream of mushroom soup and sour cream. I just looked on the Internets and found it! Here you go...

ZUCCHINI CASSEROLE

6 c. zucchini
1/4 c. chopped onion
1 can cream of mushroom soup (condensed)
1 c. sour cream
1 c. shredded carrots
1 (8 oz.) pkg. herb seasoned stuffing mix
1/2 c. butter

In saucepan cook diced zucchini and onion in boiling, salted water for 5 minutes. Use very little water. Drain well. Combine mushroom soup and sour cream and stir in shredded carrot. Fold in drained squash and onion. Stir butter in to stuffing mix. Spread half of the stuffing mix in the bottom of a 12 x 7 x 2 inch baking dish. Spread the vegetable mixture on the stuffing. Top with remaining stuffing mixture. Bake in 350 degree oven for 25 minutes or until hot.

I wish I could sit you down at my kitchen table, put a big mug of coffee and a slab of cake in front of you, and hear all your stories about beloved Roy. I did the ironing and there's a pile of clean hankies at the ready. Grief isn't a cold, it's not something you 'get over,' but I promise it won't always hurt this badly. You don't believe that's possible now, but you've got to take it on faith. All the best to you and the kitties.

You are so generous...sharing your casserole recipe with US while YOU are grieving. I wish I could offer you words to ease your pain. All I can offer are more ((hugs)) via internet and if this is not too lame a suggestion: rent the funniest movies you can and watch them with a good friend?

I am SO glad to hear from you! Love, love, love the tie story.

I completely understand what you mean about not being comfortable in your usual surroundings. For me, I cannot stay in the house--can't breathe--feel closed in--suffocated. A trip anywhere--Target is good--helps. Usually involes getting in the car and driving for me. Don't buy anything because I can't make a decision, so see how great you are doing? Cat toys--ok you left your purse in the cart, but it turned out ok. Though we realy did NOT need the panic associated with a lost purse.

I think you are doing great--hang in there--keep talking to us Purl!

Love you.

Laurie you can't imagine how often you've been in my prayers the last few days. I've been where you are and it's a grief so intense it just shuts your body down and makes you leave your giant purse in the shopping cart. Enjoy your casserole and wine.

I think there are thousands of cats right now who are reveling in all the love and attention they're getting all of a sudden :-). Even if they don't really understand why.

If nothing else, Roy's passing has taught all your readers that we should maybe just be a wee bit nicer to our own kitties, even when they do knock glasses out of the kitchen cabinets at night, or make nests in our hair as we sleep, or vomit on our new shoes.

Honey, you are more than "allowed" to be crazed with grief--you just lost a member of your family. The other kitties understand, even though they express it differently. I'm sure they are also confused right now. Give yourself some time--it's only been a couple of days. You'll know when it is time to "snap out of it" and get on with the business of remembering Roy fondly.

When Sassy and Hillidae Wilson died the vet and assistant cried with me (different occasions) - the vet for Sassy was this big huge hunky (but married dang it!) guy. As as been said before Roy was your baby and you have had a death in the family so are entitled to mourn - it's much healthier to cry than to hold it in.

I love the idea of bacon in the green bean casserole - and I'm sure Roy would too.

What happens when ducks fly upside down? They quack up.

hugs and love from one cat mom to another.

I am so sorry for your loss, Laurie. I, too, have had to deal with my fur-children (cats) passing on. I just always remember the good times I had with them. I think you should make a nice blue and gray wrap in memory of Roy. (Gray for his fur and blue for his eyes.) That way when you think of him you can wrap up in nice, soft, cuddly warmth and think of how Roy loved his hidey holes. It would be like Roy giving you a big hug. By the way, I'm southern and irish and I completely understand about humor and casseroles and such.

When my Kiefy passed (also with us there at the vet), I too thought I was prepared--I had no idea. It felt like someone had just reached into my body and hollowed me out. I still cry sometimes, but I'm so glad I was with him at the end and didn't just find him somewhere, having gone alone.

Now I will close with a joke:

How many therapists does it take to change a lightbulb? Just one, but the lightbulb has to really want to change.

Hang in there :)

As someone currently on the Atkin's diet for the next 8 months at least (doc's orders, I swear), which I know you know all about, take just a moment to be very grateful that you aren't dieting. Roll in your overabundance of delicious, delicious carbs. Relish the comfort of food (we won't even go into whether or not that's healthy, because that's not the point) that you can eat, but just might not want to, is all. Meanwhile, I am trying to figure out a way to work green bean casserole into my diet for a few days. Surely there must be a way; does Tradition have carbs in it? I don't think so.

***

Kid's answers on an elementary school Bible test: pay attention to the spelling!

IN THE FIRST BOOK OF THE BIBLE, GUINESSIS. GOD GOT TIRED OF CREATING THE WORLD SO HE TOOK THE SABBATH OFF.

ADAM AND EVE WERE CREATED FROM AN APPLE TREE. NOAH'S WIFE WAS JOAN OF ARK. NOAH BUILT AND ARK AND THE ANIMALS CAME ON IN PEARS.

LOTS WIFE WAS A PILLAR OF SALT DURING THE DAY, BUT A BALL OF FIRE DURING THE NIGHT.

THE JEWS WERE A PROUD PEOPLE AND THROUGHOUT HISTORY THEY HAD TROUBLE WITH UNSYMPATHETIC GENITALS.

MOSES LED THE JEWS TO THE RED SEA WHERE THEY MADE UNLEAVENED BREAD WHICH IS BREAD WITHOUT ANY INGREDIENTS.

THE EGYPTIANS WERE ALL DROWNED IN THE DESSERT. AFTERWARDS, MOSES WENT UP TO MOUNT CYANIDE TO GET THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.

THE SEVENTH COMMANDMENT IS THOU SHALT NOT ADMIT ADULTERY.

MOSES DIED BEFORE HE EVER REACHED CANADA. THEN JOSHUA LED THE HEBREWS IN THE BATTLE OF GERITOL.

THE GREATEST MIRICLE IN THE BIBLE IS WHEN JOSHUA TOLD HIS SON TO STAND STILL AND HE OBEYED HIM.

SOLOMON, ONE OF DAVIDS SONS, HAD 300 WIVES AND 700 PORCUPINES.

WHEN MARY HEARD SHE WAS THE MOTHER OF JESUS, SHE SANG THE MAGNA CARTA.

WHEN THE THREE WISE GUYS FROM THE EAST SIDE ARRIVED THEY FOUND JESUS IN THE MANAGER.

JESUS WAS BORN BECAUSE MARY HAD AN IMMACULATE CONTRAPTION.

THE PEOPLE WHO FOLLOWED THE LORD WERE CALLED THE 12 DECIBELS.

ONE OF THE OPPOSSUMS WAS ST. MATTHEW WHO WAS ALSO A TAXIMAN.

ST. PAUL CAVORTED TO CHRISTIANITY, HE PREACHED HOLY ACRIMONY WHICH IS ANOTHER NAME FOR MARRAIGE.

CHRISTIANS HAVE ONLY ONE SPOUSE. THIS IS CALLED MONOTONY.

JESUS ENUNCIATED THE GOLDEN RULE, WHICH SAYS TO DO UNTO OTHERS BEFORE THEY DO ONE TO YOU. HE ALSO EXPLAINED A MAN DOTH NOT LIVE BY SWEAT ALONE.

I'm so sad for you. I lost my Belle (yellow lab) on July 4 and feel like the very best part of me is gone. She got me through my mom's 2 year illness, death and the first year after (almost to the day). I am so incredibly grateful for my girl and am sad beyond description. I think I can relate to how you are feeling. Roy is not suffering-- you are, so take good care of yourself, as Roy would want you to- and if that includes wine (as it has with me), that is quite all right. My best.

Speaking of Southern funerals..... you are so correct. I live in Georgia..... the small town with the Merle Norman store..... well anyway.... I have a Southern Funeral story too:

When my Uncle Clyde died my Mom and Dad made their way down to Florida for the funeral... now side note: this part of Florida is still Southern and hick-like.... back to story:

My Mom and Aunt Rosemary had just finished viewing the body.... it's the south you know ..... and took their seats. My Great Aunt Lucille who was Uncle Clyde's sister came by and was asking them had they seen him yet. They both said, "Yes Ma'am", of course. Then she went on and on as to how great he looked and what a wonderful job the funeral home did on him and had they seen him yet. They both shook their heads yes and as soon as Great Aunt Lucille walked away my Aunt Rosemary leaned over to my Mama and said:

"He looks dead".

The end.

Laurie, honestly, I can cope with losing people better than I can cope with losing animals. Even my old grandpa, who is basically the most stoic Alabama gentleman you could ever meet, insisted that he could never have another pet again after his dog Jake was hit by a car. He has had animals all of his 90 years, but this time, he said the pain was too much for him to handle. I hadn't ever heard him use the word pain, even to refer to broken bones and such, so his using it in an emotional context just about made me fall off my chair.

One of my mom's dogs died in her arms three years ago, and I still can't think of it without crying. He had been sick for a while, so all the vet's staff got to know him really well. Burr died at home, but my mom brought him into the office afterwards to have him cremated. As she was leaving, she saw the techs going into the room where she had laid him. She thought they were just going to carry him away, but instead, they all started petting him and telling him what a good dog he was. That image still makes me completely lose it. I can't imagine that I'll ever get over that.

I'm so glad you know you are not alone. I happened to mention Roy yesterday evening and started sobbing. At the dinner table. In the middle of a restaurant. His story really has touched so many of us.

I have that recipe -and make it every year at Christmas. I find it pairs well with a big old bottle of Mogen David Concord Grape Wine ;)

The casserole I desprately searching for has a nice layer of browned tator-tots on the top and was always served at lutheran funerals when I was a kid.

Laurie, you are a breath of fresh air! You go right ahead and eat every bite of that casserole if you feel like it. It's okay to grieve the lose of your beloved kitty. I (and many others) am grieving for you too. I might even eat a whole casserole myself. (One should not be alone during such times!)

As for the fantastic Southern uncle names, I am right there too. Had myself a Marty and an Ira, and for a good part of my life I didn't know who was the aunt and who was the uncle. (We didn't see them very often!)

So sorry to hear about Roy. It is a hard hard thing to lose a pet. I wish I could say it gets easier, but it has been two years since I lost my dog Olive and just the other day I cried in the dog food aisle at the grocery store... It wasn't the ugly cry though, so I guess it does get better, but never goes away. I think that trying to pass yourself off as OK hurts more than it helps. Just get your crazy on and let it all out. The only thing better than casseroles, chocolate or wine is a good cry.

I'm sorry for your loss. I too have taken off work after the loss of a pet. They contribute so much to our lives on a daily basis that the empty space that remains when they leave us is very hard to fill.

Last summer our older cat lost her extended battle with kidney failure. We had to get a kitten a couple months later just to shut up the remaining cat who came from his litter to living with her, and so had never lived without another cat around and so turned to us for all of his attention needs. And we thought he was high maintenance before!

Reposting this from my comment on the last entry. I would really appreciate some feedback/support with this:

EVERYONE! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE CHECK OUT THIS SITE I JUST CREATED FOR ROY!

http://roythecatfund.blogspot.com/

I'd like to try to organize a donation on behalf of Roy to an animal sanctuary and society that I think is really fantastic: Best Friends. This is my very meager start and I'd appreciate some feedback, or if people could spread the word. I hope people see this!

HEY! HEY YOU SCROLLING! COME BACK AND FOLLOW THIS LINK!!!!!

Thanks. :)

I'm one of those crazy southern women too and I was brought up to FEED people on every occasion.
After my Dad's funeral I stood on the front porch screaming at people for eating. Now that's crazy!

Aw, honey, one is never prepared even if they think they are. You keep on crying. It is your time to grieve.

Take all the time you need to grieve. I lost all three of my nineteen year old kitties - each one within six months of the last - almost three years ago and I still sometimes cry when I think of them. All of my cats outlasted my marriage and were my babies for almost two decades. One of the three, Oscar, was my Roy.

Oscar was the first to go, from renal failure, and I was distraught, to put it mildly, for days and days afterwards. Sam (Samantha) his sister died six months later - I'm still convinced of a broken heart, because she had not been sick a day in her life. After Oscar's death she went steadily downhill until I knew it was time to say goodbye. The last to leave me was Riley, the only one of Sam's one-and-only litter of kittens that I kept, and all of us (my vet, the vet techs and I) cried when I had to say goodbye to my last child.

I have several dogs now that I love to distraction, but have not yet adopted another cat. One day I know I will, but not yet.

Love ya sweetie. I'll say a prayer that you will one day remember your Roy with nothing but joy.

Can I just tell you how much I heart you for using cream of chicken instead of cream of mushroom? Because mushrooms? They are vile and loathsome things that I do not believe god or nature intended for humans to put into our mouths. *shudder*

I understand your need to laugh. It's how I deal with grief, too. Or stress or pain or just about any other negative situation. I always know that if I can find just one thing, no matter how tiny or silly, that I can laugh at, eventually I'll be okay. And so will you. You are too strong and full of life and love not to be.

Here's my favorite silly joke for you, just in case you need one:

Two peanuts were walking through the woods. One was assaulted. (It works better if you read it aloud.)

Much love to you, Laurie, and to the kitties. You're all in my thoughts.

Hi Laurie,
I am a long time reader/lurker.. i am so sorry to read about your loss. its never easy. as i read your post yesterday i was thinking is there a way to send her something sweet, see I'm jewish and in the Jewish tradition when someone dies, you bring something sweet to the house of the mourner so that they will remember the sweet times. Of course trying to send you a cake would seem stalker-esque and while i only slightly admit that I am above that, I also realized that I live on the east coast and the likely hood of it getting there in one piece and not stale would be slim. So instead I offer a toast... here's to Roy, something sweet and good times ahead!
all the best and thanks for adding to my day with your blog

Laurie -
You and Roy had a special bond. Pets are wonderful, but every now and then one comes along that is just a little bit "extra" special. Your were lucky to have each other...you both helped each other through some rough times. It will get better, but you'll always have a spot for Roy in your heart.

Five years later, I can still get choked up thinking about my fuzzy little kitty I had to have put to sleep after kidney failure. But then I think about some of his crazier moments and it puts smile back on my face. Like the time he got so plugged up with his own darn hair that he couldn't poop! After the vet had "removed" the blockage and my little guy was growling in the corner of the examination room, the vet described him as being "a little agitated"...what an understatement!!!

Also great for grief? A big ol' baked macaroni and cheese. Swear to god.

Also, and I hope you get to read this far away from the beginning section of the comments...but I've been having nightmares now, every night this week. Usually my dreams even the scary ones are damn right comedic, the monsters are usually fuzzy and reminiscent of muppets. But my nightmares are anxiety ridden. Wednesday night I had one where I had left my purse and wallet alone somewhere and then found it, but neglected to report that my credit cards had been stolen and then had a full on anxiety attack half asleep that my identity had been stolen and woe!

The only good dream in fact, involved you on Tuesday in which I dreamed I was at some great party and you were there, and I kept making a damned fool of myself by spilling your vodka. I am classy. It made me absurdly happy (although pathetic to have dreams involving internet bloggers that I do.not.know.).

May only good things come your way. And if you want or need a kickass recipe for mac'n'cheese, you send me an email. I am so your girl.

Laurie,

We had to put down our lovely dog Shasta one month ago,and yesterday our other dog Cody was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He had his spleen and part of his kidney removed, and he'll be on chemo for six months, and then it is just holding our breath.

Someone left me a note on my blog saying that our animals live in the moment, not worrying about tomorrow or next month or next year, just enjoying the wonder and beauty that each day brings. I'm going to try to live my life that way too. I think you are the type of person who probably does that to some extent.

They teach us great lessons, those fur babies. We just have to listen to them. Much love to you.

I understand about losing your mind and purse with grief. When my grandmother and my horse, both of whom I knew my whole life, died in the same week, I did what I always do when things fall apart - I locked my keys in the car... in the ignition... with it running. I finally got the car situation taken care of, and realized that time continues on and everything is eventually ok. Big hugs and best wishes to you!!

Laurie, sometimes all you can do is laugh. When my 100 year old grandfather died, we followed the funeral director to the burial site. We stopped in front of the chapel to let my parents go in, then were about to go find a parking spot when the driver of the funeral limo burst out of the chapel, reached into the back seat of his vehicle, and pulled out a Macy's shopping bag which he hurried back into the chapel.

"What's he doing?" I asked my husband who shrugged and said, "I think he forgot Grandpa."

Turns out that's exactly what had happened! He'd left my grandfather's ashes strapped into the back seat.

I am so terribly sorry that Roy is gone but what a lucky cat he was to have you to love him. We lost our beloved dog Perky twenty-three years ago and her memory can still bring me to tears. The pain will settle into something bearable, I promise. You gave him a wonderful life. You made him as famous as a rock star!

I mean, here I am in central NJ and I know Roy's story and wish him godspeed. Besides, Roys are special. I married one so I speak with a little authority.

Take good care of yourself and the rest of the crew and trust that Roy knows how much you loved him.

So sorry to hear about sweet Roy. Honey, you're not the only one that vet has seen or heard cry ugly crocodile, tears. Its okay to cry over the loss of a pet. Roy seemed some kinda special. I especially liked how he craved bacon. Mmmmm, bacon. A cat after my own heart. (((Big hugs)))

When my cat, Percy, was sick (he couldn't seem to poop) I took him to the vet and found out he had a big tumor. I cried so hard I made the vet cry too. Granted it was a young female vet but I'll never forget that the vet cried too before we put him to sleep. That's been over 10 years ago. You never forget them.

I don't own a cat (or other pet) myself....but I'm the pet therapist in the family. Each time a pet is ill, or worse, I get a call from the owner (slave in the case of cats), to talk them "off the roof". Which I do. And I guess I do OK, because the calls keep coming. Fortunately, not often.

Even as hard as it seems now, it will get better. Really and truly. And frankly, I'm surprised that you remembered your purse as soon as you did. You couldn't have been blamed if you had not remembered until you reached home.

Laurie, your eulogy for Roy was beautiful. I admire you so much for sharing it with all of us; I'm not sure I could have done the same.

When my cat Joey died, I left the vet's office in a fog and drove for over an hour. I somehow wound up at Albertson's, not because I needed to go grocery shopping, but because I needed the sensory overload, anything to keep me from thinking. My nose and eyes were red, and I kept watering up (embarrassingly so); I stood in a daze in front of the floral section and the florist flat GAVE ME a bundle of flowers for free. I left and drove some more--never thinking, refusing to think at all, until I saw a Walgreens somewhere, God knows where, and pulled into the parking lot. I began to cry as I asked the pharmacist for the strongest painkiller I could buy, "Anything," I sobbed, "that will knock me out so I can't think." I had avoided home all day, because I couldn't be there without my Joey. And the only way I could face it was to medicate and sleep, but even my dreams betrayed me as I kept picturing his sweet face and how he had cuddled close to me on his last night at home, purring even as I was crying buckets of tears, comforting ME even though he was the one with the pain.
I moved through my life, working extra hours, spending time anywhere but home. And finally, I moved. I had to. I left my apartment, my city, my state. It was the only thing I could do.

I'm so very, very sorry dear!

My contribution to helping make you laugh is this crazy Southern landmark - Golgotha Fun Park. It's a bible minigolf place. I don't think it's there anymore, but I always wanted to hit a golf ball into the whale's mouth. (Just don't hit Jonah!)

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/KYCAVgolgotha.html

Also if I can remember to bring my camera I'll take a picture of Dotson's for you tonight.

XO,
Jen

I couldn't post yesterday as every time I tried, I started crying as thinking of Roy brought back memories of my Suki who passed on eighteen months ago. There is no shame in loving an animal who is always there for you or mourning their passing. Roy will live on in your memory and will never really leave you. Not ever.

Give it time, it does get better. In the meantime, keep on spoiling those kittens and enjoy your casserole, I'm sure it will help.

Hi Laurie! I'm so sorry about your loss. I cried when I read your story about his name, and I'm sure my husband thinks I'm on some kind of meds for crying over a pet I've never even met before. And I won't say anything like "time heals all wounds" or anything like that, because sometimes, that kind of sentiment is a load of crap. Just know that I'm sending you vibes of love, and that we (all your readers) love you and wish you all the best, and that having an extra glass of wine (or three) is perfectly fine.

I'm glad you got your purse back. Once I dropped my wallet when getting into the car, and when I realized it and drove back it was lying right there in the street, with tire marks in it. And it was bright red. I couldn't believe no one noticed it. Some thieves really missed their chance on that one.

Laurie, you have truly been in my thoughts ever since I read your last post. I just can't shake the sad feelings. Thanks so much for sharing Roy with us - I'll miss him.

oh darling.
my heart goes out to you. i know you don't me and in fact this is only the second day i've been reading your mighty fine blog but my heart aches for your loss.
i still have my cremated cat on my bookshelf next to a picture of him in healthier days. sometimes i just hold his urn and cry. and it's been over 5 years now.
what you're feeling is normal, i guarn-damn-tee it. yes, that is in fact a word.
hang in there even though it's hard to do.
and remember, wine does in fact solve everything.

Grrrrrrrrrrr. This is the second day in a row my post has come up under someone else's name. This is my original post:

Dammit woman, you're making me cry AGAIN. You are 100% entitled to feel the way you do - I would have to be institutionalized if something happened to my Buster kitty, aka Shoo-Man-Foo - and I'm not exaggerating. Stay strong, woman - you're one tough cookie and I'd give the use of both my legs to have even HALF the strength that you do. Roy would not want, though, for you to be so sad and lost...damn it, crying again....

Rebecca - sampietro2003@hotmail.com

In addition to wine with casserole, might I recommend ice cream. Or fudge. Or both.

I love green bean casserole, and the next one I make will have a healthy splash of Worchstershire in it. My cats have been getting lots of love and attenion since I read about Roy - the old one becuase she's old, the fat one becuase he's fat, and the young one becuase I don't want to leave him out.

For the longest long time, my grandparents lived in Tyler...it wouldn't surprise me at all if your Uncle Mouse had known my granddaddy Kirby somehow.

Oh man, the food at those funerals...if I lived closer, I'd at least bring you some deviled eggs, or some ham or barbecue at least. It's in my blood, you know.

Sending you lots of hugs, I know you need them. Keep giving some love to those kitties, too. I am sure they are wondering where their housemate went.

A ham sandwich walks into a bar & orders a beer.

Bartender says, "sorry, pal, we don't serve food here."

Da dum chiiiii.......

Honey, (my roots are Southern...) the toughest of people get a bit scattered when their fur kids pass. Where I used to work, I was in the parking garage when our sarcastic, wise-a** IT guy was with his dog fur-kid just after the dog was diagnosed with a tumor in his heart. Now, I have a good startle response, and this guy LOVED to sneak up behind me and scare me, he lived for it. He put his head on my shoulder and sobbed. If he had carried a handbag, he would have left it at a store that day, and for several days following.

At my great Uncle's funeral, his granddaughter (a student at Juliard at the time) played the violin, my mothers stomach growled, rather loudly, as accompaniment to the playing. That has been over 20 years ago, and she and I still get the giggles over it. We simply bowed our heads and people thought we were truly broken up, the way our shoulders were shaking. We loved my Great Aunt, that is why we were there, we were not broken up over that particular Uncle's passing, every family has one of THOSE relatives.

Take care...

Sending deviled eggs and pimento cheese in true Southern style.

When I lost my cat Amy in January, I just felt scoured out by grief. I've buried other pets, both my parents, and my sister, but losing Amy devastated me in a whole different way.

I've been thinking about you frequently since I read your post about Roy, and I bet you have literally thousands of others doing the same.

Thanks for the recipe--it's really close to mine, but I've never put some of the onions in with the green beans before. Now I'm craving it!

If you can stand to, just let yourself be extra-strange for a while. Everyone will understand, and anyone who doesn't doesn't deserve your consideration. Love to you and the kitties.

My favorite grandma died in 1989. She was 89. She went downhill in the course of 6 months. A couple of times during those 6 months she didn't know me.

The last time I saw her I had on some FABULOUS MC Hammer parachute pants.

I "killed" at the funeral telling my cousins how she told me she loved my "Omar the tent-maker" pants.

I don't think that trying to lighten up the situation is a southern thing....more just self defensive.

HUGS!

Oh Laurie. If I could, I'd bring a casserole over myself. I'd even wear a funny tie.
I've cried now two days in a row reading your posts, both with a little smile somewhere because of the hugeness of your heart. You've been near the front of my thoughts as I spend time with my pets today.

-- When my SO broke his wrist and we went to the combo food/drug store to fill his prescription for Vicodin, while we were waiting for the prescription to get filled we got a gallon of vanilla ice cream. When we checked out, the pharmacist said, "I sell that combination a lot."

-- For the woman in Britain who isn't familiar with French's Fried Onions, they are thin onion strips that have been dipped in batter and fried until they're very crisp. They should really be labeled "Globs of Onion-Flavored Fat" and they're wonderful.

Honey, when my daddy died, before the funeral, I left my purse behind at a busy buffet-type restaurant in New Orleans (got it back, too). When I'm a mess I do things like that. We all do.

The hardest thing I've done (yet) in my life was writing and giving the eulogy at my father's funeral. But we are Southern, and from New Orleans at that, and my Daddy's love for the Saints was pure and true, and I could not have talked about his life without a funny little story about the Saints in there somewhere. So I did. It even got a smile out of my mother. The dead want to be remembered in happy ways, I am sure. It's good for them and good for those left behind.

The neighbor's cat used to come over and visit my Dad every afternoon when he was sitting on the porch. Dad died three weeks before Katrina hit, but that cat still comes over every day, looks at my Mom, looks over at the place where Dad used to sit, and meows ... "Where's Adam?" He's a good cat. Gets along with Mom's kitties, too.

Casseroles are good for the soul. I think casseroles became official funeral food because they are warm and comforting, they don't require a whole lot of chewing (which is tiresome), and because they are humble -- they taste good, but without having the appearance of being too festive for the occasion.

A funeral is no time for a damn salad with low-cal dressing.

There's nothing wrong or strange about grieving for your cat. Even grieving a lot. Those little babies are such a part of our lives. I lost my own little Scootch (he was 17) last October, and it was so hard. I just told the ladies I work with that when I start to cry, just ignore me. If you address it, it will just get worse. But really, you need to go through the grieving in order to heal. You will be better.

And I so understand about the trying to make jokes. But it didn't work with my cat. When my fiance died, we were laughing (and crying) while picking out the casket (his sister suggested we just bury him in his old T-Bird) and planning the service. But when my cat died? Could not find the funny in it. I have found potential funny in the form of how big his urn is, because he was such a big cat that there are a lot of ashes, but I just can't make the joke.

And I'm glad you got your purse back in one piece! It's terrifying to lose it like that.

P.S. -- "Tump" is a real word.

I am so sorry about your loss. Yes, it gets better, but it still stings, even years later. I still miss my dog, who passed away more than twenty years ago. There have been times when I've visited my parents in my childhood home and still expect to see him running toward me.

And you are not the first person to leave a purse in a shopping cart. It happens all the time - more than you can imagine. We all do less than logical things when our (semi-)logical world gets turned around.

You will be ok. You will be more than ok. It gets better.

If you don't already have some form of Xanax, I HIGHLY recommend having someone prescribe it for you. Granted, you can't drink (too much) while taking it... but it does help a lot.

Of COURSE the interwebs loves you, girl. You're CRAZY AUNT PURL!!!

Big hugs.

Green bean casserole is tops, especially when I need to get that feeling back--the one like being an innocent child with parents to protect me and not a care in the world. That's what green bean casserole tastes like to me. And at least you know the Universe has your back getting an intact fully loaded purse back! Take good care of yourself.

When I read your story about Roy, the first thing I did was to go back to your entry from January where I first read about Roy and that sweet little baby Evan (http://www.crazyauntpurl.com/archives/2007/01/might_i_recomme_1.php). I love animals and I think it's great to start a fund in Roy's name to go to an animal sanctuary, but I just can't get this little guy off my mind - he and Roy are somehow stuck together in there. If I have any extra, that's where it will be going - in Roy's memory.

I can testify to the goodness and healing powers of that casserole. Especially with tater tots.

I promise next time we talk I won't mention it. And you are not crazy.

I couldn't email yesterday, I was to upset. I was extra kind to my two cats last night, gave them extra food and loving. Now the extra food will probably kill them in the long run but they enjoyed it. I enjoyed their kitty smiles. My heart goes out to you, Roy was a looker and he loved you.

OMG, I haven't finished reading this post yet but just had to jump down to comment 'cause I'm LOL w/ tears after reading about maybe making a casserole. I didn't need to read the part about being Southern. Cause that's what I am. Here in TN --- midTN --- close to M'boro.

ok, back to reading today's blog...

Don't worry about being a wreck over this. People who aren't wrecks in this type of situation are not to be trusted. When my cat/soulmate Buffy passed (several years ago now), you could have heard my weeping out on the other coast. For days. It was horrifying. But necessary.

When my sister's cat died last fall we had an Episcopalian funeral for him in the backyard. Seriously. I've still got it floating around if you're interested.

And you're absolutely right. Grief calories don't count. So enjoy your casserole and wine (sounds like a damned fine dinner to me) and remember that chocolate and cake are fine means of soothing some of that horrid empty feeling. As is picking up any of the other cats and hugging them into oblivion--after all, they've lost someone, too.

so i have a funny story that makes me laugh and think fondly of my old napoleon. my husband (from now on referred to as joe because it's his name) and napoleon had a love-hate relationship. napoleon was my cat and was with me a good 10 years before joe ever came into my life so nap was none too pleased. and joe was a dog lover with no interest in cats whatsoever. anyway. napoleon had a nasty habit of showing his displeasure with joe's existence by peeing in his clothes or on his things. A LOT!!! i took him to the vet several times to have him checked out for a kidney infection type situation because people told me that cats pee sometimes because they're in pain...and was told by the vet that no, napoleon wasn't sick ... HE WAS JUST AN ASSHOLE. heh heh. (i laugh now but it was annoying because sometimes he didn't just pee on clothes).

napoleon was a tiny cat. this is important to know. at the end of his life he weighed 8lbs. so he normally didn't take up much room and could curl himself up into a tiny ball.

anyway, the morning i found him, he had probably been dead for a few hours because he was stiff. i was a wreck, crying and carrying on and joe was a trooper considering how much he hated that cat. he consoled me and went a got a towel and wrapped the cat and found a box. while i just stood there a mess. then he went to go put napoleon in the box, and ... the cat wouldn't fit. he had passed away all sprawled out including the tail and now he was stiff that way and although all curled up in a ball he would have fit on a dinner plate, there he was not fitting in an old computer monitor box (you know the big ass monitors). "damn you cat!!" joe says "you still got the last laugh."

i laughed my ass off. and i cried. but i laughed too.

not to worry. we did find a bigger box (it was ridiculously huge). but i know that nappy would have loved winning the final battle.

I've spent the last two days lavishing Fred with all sorts of loving attention. For some reason, he seems annoyed too!

I think Hambut, my cat, thinks I have totally lost it because in between tears I shed for your loss, I went to him and picked him up (which is no easy feat as big as he is) and hugged him and loved him and demanded him to live forever.

Your still in my thoughts.
I know that I am but one of many who have come to love you and your life and feel as if by some weird happenstance of life we're connected in some way. It has become the way of alot of bloggers; to form connections through each others blogs.

Casseroles, yes. When I read your roy story, I, who am not southern and who does not cook, immediately thought we all needed to contact Jennifer and Faith and Aunt Pam...(well people who actually KNOW you in person) and get them to bring you casseroles. And wine. I got all anxious about comforting you somehow. I think I was even waving my arms around a bit whilst crying in the office. (And you think YOU'RE a bit crazy...)

So gosh, wallow a bit. Drink a bit. Eat a casserole. Uh, do TRY to hang on to your purse. and

A grasshopper goes into a bar, the bartender says, "hey, we have a drink named after you." And the grasshopper says, "That's funny, why would you name a drink Bob?"

When my husband moved in, he came with a tough orange tom cat named Sunny. Sunny had been abused as a young cat, and took out his rage by acting stand-offish and peeing all over the house. He wanted to be a single, alpha cat, and he was dropped in a house with kittens who liked nothing better than to chase him and engage him in "play."

But, somehow, Sunny and I started to get along. He drove me nuts with his incessant demands to be let outside at all hours of the day and night, and his insistence on wet food, only - please and oh, yeah, I want to eat in the bedroom so the other cats won't bother me. He fought the neighborhood cats and was a general pain in the ass, but I loved him and started calling him "Old Man," "Sunny Bunny," and "Sweet Bunny in the Rock." (It's a spoof on a Southern Gospel group's name. Don't ask.)

I was the one who drove Sunny to the vet when we put him down. He was healthy as a horse, but miserable. Peeing everywhere, hating the other cats, and only behaving (when he behaved) for me. I couldn't stand to make the decision, but I had to. So I took him to the vet and held him tight as they injected the medicine...then wrapped him in my son's favorite baby blanket and held him as he died.

I still cry about it, and feel like an absolute heel over what I did. I wish Sunny could have passed like Roy, but he was not a happy cat.

I'm glad you were able to rescue and rehabilitate a cat who had obviously had it rough early in life. I wish I could have done the same for Sunny.

Because you are a bright and shining spot on the Internet, because I really want to make that casserole tonight, because I think I shop at the same Ralph's as you, and because you could use some cheering, I pre-ordered your book!

And if I had your address I'd send you a bottle of my favorite Zin (EdMeades!)

"Daddy, are you sad right now because Uncle Ronnel won't give you his tie?"

Truly the funniest thing I've ever read.

I was just going on about the green bean casseroles of my youth the other day, somewhat over-enthusiastically. My husband, embodiment of New England that he is, admitted he has never had a green bean casserole, never even HEARD of fried onions ("in a...can?"). My mind is still a-bogglin'. Thanks for the recipe.

Ok, I finished reading. great visual you gave about the tie & linking arms w/ your dad --- I could see his smile & look after your comment! So good!!!

I posted yesterday w/ the other, as you'd put it, elevengazillion posters. I have gotten so choked up about all of my pets! When they were sick or when they died - very very emotional times!! Just to give a little idea --- I couldn't quit sobbing when my iguana was diagnosed w/ calcium deficiency - that's why his little legs were swollen! His bones were broken!!! Oh, that was AWFUL! Felt awful for him & felt so terribly guilty for his condition! Then you can imagine the grief when our dog died...

I so enjoy reading your blog, and I am so sorry about your beloved Roy. My dear kitties have helped me through so much. I am glad that the two of you were able to have a home together.

Q: What do you cal the detonator to a rabbit bomb?

A: A HAIR TRIGGER!

Q: What do you call rabbits who sell carnations at airports?

A: HARE KRISHNAS!

When my dog passed away it was a VERY painfull expierence for her, she died of a blood clot in her brain. and for 3 hours prior to her leaving us forever she had non stop seizures, she was awake and lucid the whole time. Her eyes were always focused on me during her seizures and she was so scared. This was on xmas eve and of course there was no Vet open exept for a place 2 hours away, as we were getting off the freeway, She gave a final shudder and died in my arms. I was sitting in the back seat where i could be with her. And I thank god that I was in my sisters car and she had child locks on her doors as I freaked out so badly I tried to open the door and get out while we were STILL ON THE FREEWAY! I ended up breaking the handle on the door trying to get out and if they hadnt pulled over on the side of the road I would of broke the window to get out.

BUT the whole reason for that horrible story is No one can blame you for the crazy thing you do when a child (cuz lets face it the furry's are our children too!) goes across the bridge. I still have nightmares of looking into her eyes a she died and watching the life fade away. The first 3 weeks I didnt sleep because I was scared to keep seing it.
Crazy comes with the teritory of loosing a loved one. You still inspire me. So much that today Im doing my first knit in the round!

when you're grieving, you definitely need to laugh a little from time to time. otherwise your forced to walk around all the time feeling that painful little hollow in your chest where your heart just imploded. trust me, i've felt it before.

i'm glad we (your readers) can bring you some comfort while you grieve. eventually it will get better sugar, i promise, and you'll be able to smile about the thought of roy taking naps in the bacon meadows just south of the rainbow bridge. =]

Laurie,

You are one of the bestest things on the "internets"!! I don't know any jokes to raise your endorphin levels, but here are things I like to do when I'm sad:

1. a rigorous walk
2. a bubble-bath
3. a pedicure
4. talking to God or a good friend (even if it's pissed ranting)
5. doing something creative
6. Ben & Jerry's (acceptable alternative: chocolate chip cookies)
7. alcohol

(Truth be told, I often default to numbers 6 and 7).

Much love and prayers to you! :-)

Have you read the "Sweet Potato Queen" books?
Funny Southern womem, lots of calorie ladden food, and great drinks.
Take and give yourself all the time you need to heal and remember.

Love your blog, love your wit, and love your love of the fur friends.

I'm thinking of you and the loss of Roy. What a great story and tribute to the lil guy.

Now I want to go home and snuggle my cats (Carrie and Okee).

I had a friend once,
Her name was Willow Bea,
Fluffy and round and big green eyes.
When she got mad at me she would pee on my clothes,
but she held my hand when I cried over my
ugly divorce,
She never said a word just purred and purred as we would sit hand in paw.
The best friend I ever had was named Willow Bea.

I bet that casserole would go really well with Tater Tots. And I also think that there is a Tater Tot casserole, although I have never made it. And you call it a BUGGY! I miss that about Alabama. "Shopping cart" just sounds kind of prissy.

We're still thinking of you.

I don't know why, exactly, but sorrow requires laughter. When my son got sick people with all the best and most respectful intentions took me off their humor lists: just all of a sudden instead of all these silly jokes I used to get there was radio silence, me and my sadness and my freaked-outness just trying to get through one hour at a time, and I had to email them and say for pity's sake put me back on your list, I am all tumped over here and I need to laugh until it hurts, which at that point was maybe 0.3 second.

All right, so I didn't really say tumped, being a Yankee (lay off, I was born this way), but you get the general idea.

Anyway. I'm really glad you got your purse back. I'm really sorry you don't have Roy. Goddess bless Uncle Ronnel's tie. (I think I used to work for him, or maybe his twin brother.)

Several years ago, I had a cat who died. At the vet emergency hospital, in a private room, as soon as I got the news, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "NO! NO! NOT MY KITTY!!!!" I am certain they heard it in Africa. So, I know how you feel. And I too was looking for a way to laugh to take away the pain. So, here is my favorite knock-knock joke.

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Interupting cow.

Interupting cow wh-

MOOOOO!

I love that one. Also, midwesterners are right there with you on the green bean casserole.

I am so, so sorry about Roy. I understand. It's happened to me, too. The first time it happened the cat was named Fraidy Cat. She was so incredibly skittish and nervous, but sweet nonetheless. She died after we had her spayed. In the recovery room. And they didn't call to warn me she had died and I found out when I went to pick her up after surgery. (As I said, she was a fraidy cat and I am convinced that surgery scared her to death.) I could not speak of her passing for at least two full weeks without breaking down and sobbing. So I do understand.

We Yankees try to make light at funerals, too, just to break the tension. When I was about six years old, my grandfather died. When my mom told me about it, I very matter of factly said to her, "Well, we all gotta go sometime." (I got away with that smart-aleck comment because I was so young.) Ever since then, that's been the comment we use in our family to sort of get everyone giggling a little in those grief-filled moments. So I don't think the humor thing is weird at all.

(Sorry for the two comments right in a row. I just remembered about the "we all gotta go..." comment after I hit post on my last comment.)

I'd say forgetting your purse is perfectly normal. Hell when my grandmother passed away, I was at the funeral home with my mom and uncle while they put the obituary together. My uncle could not for the life of him remember how he and my aunt had decided to spell their youngest's name (Jaquline... Jacklyn... hell, nearly 10 years later and I don't know), she wound up just being listed as Jackie. At least you remember how to spell Soba's name. *hugs* I know what it's like to be tumped over.
And now a joke: Two muffins are sitting in an oven and the one muffin turns to the other and says, "Boy it's hot in here!" and the second muffin says, "ARGH! A talking muffin!"

This is the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. It is a story about the supposed threat of man-eating badgers in Iraq that you THINK is written by the Onion, but, was in fact written by the BBC:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/6295138.stm

Its absurdity builds and crescendoes.

Us Minnesotans bake "hot dish" or "bars". Food is the universal comfort no matter where you are from.

You deserve to grieve for Roy as long and as hard as you need to! I am going to make a Crazy Aunt Purl green bean casserole in his honor this weekend. Enjoy yours, and the wine too. ((((hugs))))

So sorry to hear about Roy. If it makes you feel better, my husband didn't think it was weird at all that I felt sad to hear that the cat of someone I have never met in real life had passed away. So I told him the story of Roy and how he got his name and now people as far away as the other side of the US are missing Roy too, so he'll always be around because people remember him.

You know what would be a good idea? And maybe someone has already suggested this in an earlier comment: What if everyone made a small donation to their local animal shelter, or knit a snuggle for it http://www.snugglesproject.org/ in memory of Roy? The Roy Foundation? The Roy T. Cat Memorial Fund?

My little Boris cat died just over a year ago. His body was failing (or we think - I still wonder if he could've been made better as he was only eleven years old - but that's a whole other guilt saga), and I had to take him. While my husband and the rest of the family tolerated and sometimes liked him, I was the only being alive who loved that cat. And I still do.

So, now that I'm sobbing again, here's my own funny funeral moment:
At my sweet, hilarious too-young-to-die-my-god-she-only-in-her-forties aunt's funeral, there were a LOT of people who came by. My aunt had worked in a local bank for years, and, having served many roles there, she'd met tons of people in the community. At the obligatory luncheon after the service, in which many casseroles were consumed, my sister and I sat with my mom. We saw a woman come in with the most prominent Janie-bumps I'd ever seen. You have to understand that Janie-bumps are the term my well-endowed family uses to refer to the parts of your breast that sometimes stick out over an ill-fitting bra, making it look like you have an extra pair of hills on top of already large breasts. Maybe you haven't seen or experienced this, but if you had our genes, you'd have no choice. We called them this because of a woman named Janie who'd once worked with my mom and had a very pronounced pair of her own. Anyway, having no idea that some smartass girls were trying to avoid sadness and thus making fun of everyone, this poor mourner walked up to the food-covered table. My sister and I remarked to Mom that she had to look at the Janie-bumps that had just come in. My mom turned and looked, then did the only real spit-take I've ever seen as she tried to explain through suppressed, near-choking laughter that this woman was, in fact, Janie. I forgot that Mom had worked at the bank, too. And even though I'm better at buying bras that fit than I was in my early 20's when I was still trying to get the prettiest underwear I could, just in case I got to show it to somebody, I still call them Janie-bumps.