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.

Hi again Laurie,

Long-time lurker, huge fan of your writing, and full-on lover of Roy.

Just wanted to remind you that grief is a mysterious thing. No one has the best way to go through hurt. We all wing it. Laugh if you want to, cry if you want to, blubber, hell, howl, if you need to. Those of us who have lost will understand, and as you can see from the posts, will howl along with you. Grief isn't pretty. It is something to go through and the process does help even though it hurts like crazy.

Be gentle with yourself. DON'T listen to anyone who says that Roy was "just a cat." They wouldn't understand if you tried to explain and those who do understand would never tell you not to grieve and feel. Roy was your furry old man and I don't think I'll fully get over his passing either even though I never had the pleasure of snuggling and talking with him. His pictures (which I have gone through and tried to save for future needing of cuteness watching...and missing) remind me that there are other amazing cats out there other than my furry baby girl, Rosie. It's good for me to know there isn't just one amazing and overly cute cat out there especially as she's getting on in years and the vet is becoming a more frequent visiting place for me and my old girl (time with her is running out but I'll make each day count). You know as I do, there's never ever going to be another Roy. He was a gift just as you were a gift to him. Your journey through this needs to be done gently and don't think of "shoulds" or "I'm being silly."

You remain in my thoughts, Laurie. You don't know me but there is a short woman who lives in Oakland, California and is currently sneaking this posting to you from her cramped cubicle in San Francisco- I'm out here hurting for you and missing Roy- the handsomest cat ever.

And if you want to be adventurous with the casseroles - a girlfriend of mine has been a big hit with her White-Castle-Burger/Tater Tot/Chili/Cheese casserole. It sounds gross, but apparently it's delicious.

I'm just sayin'....

Laurie, honey, I will make you some of that East Texas chicken spaghettie and that will ease your troubled soul. I'm just so brokenhearted for you.

Beth

Hi again,

I just read Lori's earlier post- I think it would be lovely to donate in memory of Roy.

Laurie, do you remember the name of the rescue place you found Roy and Soba at? Or is there another cat place we can donate?

Thanks Lori for the idea (and others...?)
Deanna- who had better get back to work... YIKES!

So, this guy walks into a dentists office and tells the dentist, "I think I'm a moth."
The detist asks, "if you think you're a moth, why did you come to the dentist?"
The guy says, "cause the light was on."

bum bum ching
:)

Lauri, I am so very sorry about Roy. There are no words to fill the void. I had to go through it 3 1/2 years ago with my Rottweiler, Scooter. I also held him in my arms as he passed -- all 145 pounds of him. He was in my life for almost 11 years, and I still cry over him -- I am right now. He helped me get over my divorce too. I'd walk him late at night, knowing no one would mess with me. Our time alone was my salvation, as I had two children to get through the divorce also. I got another Rottie 4 days later as the void was just too big. Arwen was also 8 weeks old when I got her, and she was a blessing. I cried a lot of tears on her little puppy head, but she never seemd to mind.

I am not a cat person, but I did have a cat at the time. Snicks was the only cat I ever loved. He belonged to our neighbors, but he decided that he liked me better, so he began to hang around. Finally, he just moved in. I felt bad for my neighbor, but he wouldn't go back. He became friends with Scooter, something I never thought possible. He'd sleep curled up next to him. He was a funny cat that made me laugh so hard. He was a tough cat who'd kick ass on all the cats in the neighborhood, despite the fact that he had been declawed. I fell in love with him, but he was only destined to be mine for a short while. About 6 months after I lost Scooter, Snicks was hit by a car and died all by himself. That was what hurt even more.

Sometimes I want another cat, but Arwen HATES cats, and besides, I am really not a cat person as I said. Snicks ( he was named Snickers by my neighbor, but it didn't fit) snuck into my heart when I wasn't looking. It was a once in a lifetime gig.

I do understand your pain and wish I could make it better. All you can do, honey, is cry, drink wine, cry more, drink more wine, and hug the stuffings out of your other 3 babies. Grief is a bitch.

Take care of yourself mi amiga.

Laurie,

It's perfectly natural to feel this confused right now. You'll be in a brain fog for awhile. You need to know this to help you stay more aware of things like the purse. Trust me. I'm just emerging from the parental loss fog and it's been a doozy.

When my beloved cat Vincent died after suffering for nine months from inoperable cancer, I was a complete wreck. I took a half day from work to bury him, then because I didn't have a "reasonable" excuse to take off the rest of the day, I went back to work, visibly on the edge of tears all day. People looked at me funny and they all assumed it had something to do with my recent ex-bf (what a joke that was to me, he wasn't worth one single sniffle). They wouldn't understand my cat grief. I was MARRIED to that cat, you know. My depression over his loss was so great I needed to go on anti-depressants for awhile.

Yeah.

That's right.

Anti-depressants because of a dead cat. That's how it reads. But you, me, and the other 1500+ commenters here know differently. Roy wasn't a cat, he was your soulmate, your heart of hearts, and it's OK to be a wreck over this. Make that casserole. Do what comes naturally in your grief. Don't apologize for being morose and gloomy, you have every right to be. Cry when you need to and do not be embarrassed even if it's loud enough for me to hear over here in Ohio. Laugh when something tickles your funny bone. Experience the feeling of wanting to be home but not wanting to be—it's natural, it will pass as you adjust to life without Roy.

One day, I promise, it won't hurt quite so much, and you'll be able to think and talk about him with love and affection, and even laughter. Until then, we're here when you need us to be and we'll wait while you get through this one day, one hour, one moment at a time.

Tonight, I'm making your Green Bean Casserole in Roy's honor.

Of course there was an outpouring of sympathy and love for you and Roy because you? *Made* us love him. You shared your stories and affection and anecdotes and pictures and we ate it all up and made it a part of us too and we're all grieving now.

And having spent the last fifteen years in the South (and married a Southerner) I understand the Grief Casserole (as well as the Grief Spiral-Cut Honey-Glazed Ham and Grief Lasagna). To these I add a virtual Grief Strawberry Yum Yum.

Take care of your self and Soba and Bob and Frankie.

Casseroles are always good. Speaking of which, check out this site. Just an idea of what you can do with all that zucchini.

http://madeater.blogspot.com/2007/07/zucchini-telephone.html

I am semi-Southern (born in Ohio, but raised in the South) and I always do a roast chicken for just such occasions. So, enjoy your casserole with the virtual chicken, and know that I am keeping you and Roy in my prayers.
Now all you need is to add my family's Irish tradition - whiskey after mourning ensures a great party, even if it is hard to joke.

Oh, you're not crazy. When we had Tiffany put to sleep (at 20, but still) I HOWLED there and then in the vet clinic. And I'm NOT an emotional person. I cried most of the night and was a wreck for about a week. I was better after the initial pain had passed, but I grieved for Tiffany for a few months afterward

If it's any help, I would be prepared to swear I saw her a few times after she died. So did my husband. Talking to other cat people, I've found out that's not unusual. So Roy may visit once in a while.

I've been offline a couple of days and just read and sobbed through the story of Roy. I am so sad and I know its beyond painful for you. Roy was such a beautiful cat. Two years ago my darling damaged old woman feline had to pass on. She was sick too. It was agonizing and heart-wrenching. Since reading about Roy, it has brought back all my feelings and memories. My other cat missed Tink tremendously and would search for her, and so will your threesome miss Roy.
I do not think you are crazy, and apparently neither to thousands of other people, according to the comments. You are a kind, loving, caring lady who has a huge heart and huge capacity for love.
Don't be too hard on yourself for leaving your bag, your heart was hurting and your mind was on other things. Its okay.

I was a total mess when my cat died. I was on vacation in Hawaii at the time and I cried and sniffled through two airports on my way home, three days after the event.

My cats are also getting picked up, snuggled and kissed a lot more these days. My thoughts are with you.

Oh Yes.
Gosh yes. Food and odd humor abound at Southern Funerals--even in the transplanted Southern community. When my Grande Dame Southern Belle of a grandmother passed on, there was enough food (Casseroles! Fried chicken! Jello molds! Ambrosia! Texas gold cake!) to choke a cow. But our moment of inappropriate humor was when a post-service potty stop (might have been me- damn pantyhose!) cause the one car holding the entirety of the female grandchildren to be late for the funeral procession. Undaunted, my oldest sister, who inherited both Grandma's daring and notorious lead-footedness, decided that we Could and SHOULD catch up to that procession. She propped up the "FUNERAL" sign good and high in the back window and we took off like a grease-lightening bat outta Hell. We whooped and hollered and laughed and white knuckled our way to the internment site..and had to spend a few minutes in the parking lot rearranging our finery and composing ourselves so we wouldn't be snickering at the graveside.
All involved agreed that of all the eulogies, driving 85 on a surface street in was the finest memorial to Grandma given that day.
Hugs to you Laurie- I'll make the Green bean casserole next chance I get. :-)

Well, we didn't hear you in Kansas. If that's any comfort.

The casserole sounds fabulous with cream of chicken and CHEESE. (I use cream of celery, but will try this.) Wonder if the green bean people will notice a run on canned gbs today!

Uncle Maynard's funeral might amuse you for a bit. This was the Kansas/Oklahoma/Missouri area and surprisingly semi-Southern. The funeral home was under construction, so they sent their business to their sister funeral home about 30 minutes away. We were surprised to find in the "parlor" where Uncle Maynard lay in state, there was another casket, open, placed in the alcove with curtains, and lit. Maynard was in the back of the room, no lights on, and chairs facing the woman-we-didn't-know. So, the family being what they are, we sat down to amuse ourselves watching people come in. They'd walk up to the woman's casket, hands clasped reverently (and the women's pockie-books swinging from their arms), and they'd say, "Oh, he looks so n..... That's not Maynard! That's a woman!" We laughed at each and every one till the funeral people came in, closed the poor woman's casket and changed the lighting. And if that's not bad enough, the next day after the funeral at the church, the church ladies burned the lunch and wouldn't let us into the hall due to the smoke. So the entire group congregated in the church entry. The funeral home guys were left alone in the sanctuary to pack up Uncle Maynard. They apparently were in a hurry and got the casket going at a good clip down the aisle, so when they burst through the doors they were not expecting the crowd of blue-haired relatives with pockie-books. Uncle Maynard bumped his way through the crowd, winging several old ladies. They loaded him into a black hearse. (Important detail.) We were allowed into the hall (smokey still) and as the dinner began one of the grandchildren became so ill he had to go to the hospital. I was elected to go along because I had studied at a university and would be able to talk to the doctors. Turns out he was having a panic attack (his first funeral) and had a good appetite when he returned to finish dinner. I got to stand on a chair back at the church to announce this. Eventually dinner ended and we lined up behind the hearse. It was a white hearse. The funeral home needed the "good" one and had switched while we ate. 60 miles to the north at the cemetery, it had been raining steadily. The ground was soaked, so the ladies' spike heels sunk in the ground and they couldn't walk to the burial area without help. My uncles armed themselves with umbrellas for the task and then set to poking the tent over the casket, sending cascades of water on the crowd. That evening, back at the house, my aunt (his wife) spent the evening searching for a document she was sure said they had to return his pacemaker and trying to convince us he had to be dug up. The casseroles and jello overflowed the refrigerator and began to be stored on the back porch. (Mom and I made careful note of what not to eat.) And the next day the two daughters made me go along (same reason) to see Uncle Maynard's doctor because they couldn't see how he could pass his physical one month and have a heart attack the next.

Mom and I laughed the entire 2 1/2 hours home.

I can relate to your purse incident. I took my daughters to the movies a few days after my husband left us. When we came out, I walked up to the car and my keys were in the door lock. This was in a busy parking lot in Santa Barbara.!!!! This is so not like my typical self. I could not believe they were still there.

Hang in there. We are all thinking good thoughts for you, and for Roy.

Ugly cry, grean bean casseroles, ugly ties and stunt racing in LA. I adore your stories. :) They make me smile. Thank you. And big hugs.

Oh Laurie.
When my dog Montanna died, I think 3 years ago now, I was certifiable. Now, we were joined at the hip, which is made even more remrakable by the fact that I am a cat person. But the same year I got montie I became pregnant with my first child, a girl who would die even before she was 10 months old. We knew she wouldn't make it from when I was 5 months pregnant and Montie became my Angel. She was there to distract me from the horror of what was happening to me. She was there for ME. So I knew I was going to be a wreck when she was..done. She lived 13 years, we went everywhere together and on her birthday she got mouth cancer. I was just so furious that on top of everything it was attacking her beautiful dog-face. During those two months I became physically sick, dizzy, passing out, throwing up(sorry) so that I actually took myself to the doctor. "What's wrong with me???" So of course he wants to know if I've got any stress in my life..ha ha ha.
When she died I actually - physically, anyway -- felt a little better, for about a week, maybe less. Then I was a mess. I cried every time I saw a dog. Every time. Black lab-types were impossible. And Laurie, I mean I would just be fine (well) and whammo! I'd be bawling like no one ever before. I got myself a puppy pretty soon after because I thought I felt so "dogless", but poor Cleo almost didn't have a chance against the sainted Montie. And frankly she was not an easy dog ever(M), but I guess I just missed her. So now 3 years later, I still miss her but I'm pretty whole again. I love my new dog, for reasons of her own making. Montie and my baby were just more entwined than I ever thought. I didn't know it then and just got whomped. You and Roy were a match made in heaven, you there for him when he needed and then he returned the favor. I so like to think someday we'll get to nuzzle these furry faces again, My heart is with you these days.

Damn, this is the second time I have commented and it keeps coming up with another name. The comment from margie is NOT from her. It's from me -- Kathy from Kathygoeskrazy.blogspot.com

I wrote about Scooter, Arwen, and Snicks.

OH my word - you got over a thousand comments and read them all - no wonder you left your purse behind!

Me again. You have other problems now, but in the future you might want to check out why I keep coming up with the wrong name attached.

Kathy : ((((((

I cried yesterday and today when I read your posting (Yes, I'm at work...but don't care...). It's hard when you lose an animal. I've lost too many through the years, it seems. I like to think that when I go to Heaven, all of my "critters" will be there waiting for me. In fact, I'm sure of it...or it wouldn't be Heaven. This may sound crazy, but when I die, I told my husband to bury all the little containers of my cremated pets with me. I feel better knowing they'll be with me. Also another quirky thing I've done...I have named every Siamese cat that I have -- Mary Elizabeth. After the first Mary Elizabeth died, I named the new kitty ME2 as a tribute...but it seemed to fit the new kitten too. It was as though ME1 was never really gone...but back again as a kitten. It also seemed to help with the emptiness... I now have Mary Elizabeth IV. If you ever find another kitty that looks like Roy (which looks like a Siamese/Tiger mix?)....maybe Roy2 would be the name that he would tell you... Oh, yeah, and one more thing, I have a picture of each of them on an ornament on the Christmas tree.

Warm thoughts to you. Roy was a special cat. I felt like I knew him through your writings. He lives on...and he'll be there waiting for you ...

After I wrote to you yesterday I walked into my dining room and saw that my elderly, sickly cat, Chester, had some weird thing going on with his eye(one pupil dilated the other not). Then he puked on the table, twice, and pooped in front of the fireplace for no apparent reason. We don't know what's wrong with him other than he's diabetic. I spoiled the crap out of him the rest of the day. Now he seems fine but I think he's not long for this world. Not sure why I'm telling you this, just that I had a REAL hard time yesterday with blubbering and thinking what a great life Roy had with you and the IKP.

Next time, if ever, you come to Longview, let me know. We can get some Bodacious bbq, some Harley's wine, visit the LYS, and chill under the big oak tree beside my pool.

OH MY GOD am I embarrassed. The name is at the bottom UNDER the line. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, please ignore my stupidity. And you felt stupid leaving your purse behind???? Honey, you had an excuse, what the hell do I have?? SENILITY!!!!!

OH MY GAWDD - YOU ARE FROM LONGVIEW, TEXAS? I spent my formative years from age 6 months through 3 and 1/2 years in Long View. I knew I liked you. Somewhere in my family archives is a record of me singing Jesus Loves Me in the kind of southern accent you can get butter with. Did you by any chance attend that great institution of education of young children called Peggy
Ann's Nursey School?

Sorry for the loss of your kitty friend.

I am now in the mood to go home and cook a spectular tuna noodle casserole.

I wish there were a website where you could order up a yummy casserole with the requisite cheese, green vegetable, sauce, and buttery crunchy top layer and send it to your expatriate Southern friends. Like Teleflora, but with arrangements of broccoli or green beans. If there were, one would be coming your way from me, for sure.

Please be super good to yourself for the foreseeable future!

Kathy, the name shows up *underneath* the comment. I don't know why, it's just how the software came I guess. I'm not techy enough to change it.

Also, thank you everyone for your stories, and jokes! I did have a chuckle or two at my desk. I have had the door closed all week, you know my officemates think I am nuts.

I appreciate so much all the nice words and I agree that the best memorial of all is to just hug who you have and appreciate them today. I would do just about anything for five minutes of Roy healthy and vibrant back with me.

Do you know it never dawned on me until he passed that Roy was what kept me going during the worst of my divorce? I had to stay on schedule because he woke me up at 5 on the dot, and I always needed to get home at a reasonable hour to feed him (man had no teeth! needed his wet food!) and he had medication at times and he always needed me and missed me so I felt like I had a purpose, at least one creature on the earth actually NEEDED me to be alive and functional.

I came home to a void I have never known. The thing is, when my husband left I was tore up but I knew the man didn't love me anymore. Roy LOVED me, all the way to the last breath ok, I am a mess now thank god the damn door is shut.

When we lost our cat Mathilda in 1995 (at age 19-1/2)we were so grief-stricken we couldn't even get another cat (we were one-cat household). So we adopted a wonderful dog from the local pound. When she died 10 years later we couldn't even function for the entire summer after her death. (The only cure was to get another dog, which we did in late 2005). So please never apologize to anyone for your grief over Roy. He was your best friend for all that time and he was a person. I know it will take time before you will be able to think of him without tears, but that time will come and then you'll just be remembering him with a smile.

Laurie - First, earlier this week I overheard a woman telling her friend that she had done the same thing with her purse. Only she mentioned that she'd done it more than once. Yoo-hoo -- she was out to lunch. You're grieving. That's different.

When I lost my Baxter cat a couple years ago I didn't think I'd ever recover. And I haven't. I've never stopped missing him and can't imagine ever replacing him. He was my baby. Feel as terrible as you want, for as long as you want.

{{Laurie}} Big hugs honey! I am a faithful reader although I don't think I've ever posted a comment before. I figure there are a couple hundred other people who are probably posting exactly what I was going to say and the last thing I want to do is give you something extra to read that you've already read. Whew! Anyways, just wanted to break my silence because you can never have too many condolences when you're grieving. I'm so sorry you're hurting now. What more can I say? It's so hard to try to go about the day to day activities while you have this huge load of grief that you're carrying around while still trying to function. Although you don't know me I feel like we're girlfriends. So if I were there I'd give you a big hug, pour you a big glass of wine and sit and look through pictures of Roy with you while we waded through a box of Kleenex together. Big Hugs!!

ps--i'll try to remember to post my green bean casserole later for ya. It is sooooooo good--it has velveeta and sour cream instead of cream of mushroom soup. It should probably be served with a defibrillator nearby.

Anyway, love ya honey!

Macaroni and cheese--the proper baked casserole kind with a crispy bread crumb topping--is my favorite. And cheese melted over toast. Nachos with cheese, guac, four kinds of salsa and sour cream. Oh, and Top Ramen.

Oh, Laurie. You've made me wish that, for once in my life, problems really could be solved with food. Please accept my deeper-than-the-Pacific-Ocean-condolences for your loss. I love you.

When my Uncle Fred died I went out and bought a great big stogie [in a tube no less!] to bury with him, because if you knew Uncle Fred, you knew he was never without one.

My cousin Jim was so happy I brought that stogie because in HIS grief, he had forgotten to bring one. So, I stowed that stogie in the inside pocket of Uncle Fred's suit coat, as my sister watched.

Then, I pulled out a book of matches and shoved those in there, too.

My sister said, "Matches? He won't be needing matches."

And I looked at her and said, "If you believe in the stogie, you believe in the matches."
.

Darlin', when my cat Lucy died, it was just three weeks after my mom died. I would have been a wreck even if Mom had been there to hold my hand and buy me chocolate afterward. As it stood, I literally could not stand for the pain.

It was after midnight, just March 17 (appropos of nothing), and I cried so hard my knees couldn't hold up the wrenching of my sobbing body. I sprawled in the middle of the vet's exam room feeling my hair stick to the tears and snot all over my face. I managed to choke out to the shocked doctor that my mom had just died and I simply wasn't... myself. She left me alone after a few minutes, probably as much out of helpless embarrassment as respect for my grief.

When I finally peeled myself off the floor and wrapped Lucy up to take her home so Dad could bury her next to my other passed pets in his backyard, I asked the vet if I should worry about my other cat, Quill, who was Lucy's littermate and lifelong antagonist... er, companion.

She said I should take Lucy's body and let Quill sniff at it and assimilate the situation and if he had a particularly bad reaction, I should call and we'd discuss remedies.

I took Lucy home and tearfully beckoned Quill. "I'm so sorry, Quill. Lucy died and we won't be seeing her anymore. Are you OK?"

(Yes, I talk to my cat like this. Sometimes ya gotta.)

He sniffed her perfunctorily, hopped up on the couch and began licking his privates.

Humour helps.

Hang in. I know it's been said many times, many ways, but it gets much better.

XOXO

I never had pets growing up. In my 20's I ended up with two cats - Mushy and Stupid. When Stupid died I was beyond crushed, I was utterly devastated. Inconsolable.

And that is how I ended up with a STUPID FOREVER tattoo on my arm. I miss that damn cat.

http://home.grandecom.net/~rachel/images/rightwrist2.jpg

I am very sorry for your loss. - Rachel

Rebecca, please stop worrying. In this blog, your name posts under your post, not before it.

Dear Ms. CAP,

You are doing fine. My family has strict instructions not to let me drive if something dire happens to a family member and that includes my Kermit or Beaker!

Take it easy this weekend. Hell, call out Monday if you think you can get away with it! Relax, cry, and mourn for your Roy. Both you and he deserve it!

Don't forget, Laurie, that Soba, Frankie and Bob need you too. They don't understand where Roy went and will need constant reassurance from you that everything is okay. They adore you (even though Soba might not admit it) and are there to fill your heart with cat hair, slobber and litter.

BTW, I make that casserole EVERY Thanksgiving and Christmas. I am a Southerner by geography only but I must say I do make a mean batch of biscuits and gravy!!

Smooches, Liz R

I also cried at my desk when I read your post yesterday. Thank God for all your readers who admitted the same -- I didn't feel like such a blubbering fool when I realized I wasn't alone. And thank God also for Audrey (of Audrey and Jeff) who lent me her tissues. And enjoy the casserole. That's one of my favorites too.

Now if I could just stop tearing up everytime I think of the words for "Danny's Song."

That 'Stupid Forever' tattoo has me laughing through my tears!
.

I wonder if you could make that recipe and substitute zukes for the green beans. Kill two birds with one stone sort of casserole.
I have been known to leave my purse in the shopping cart, with no good excuse whatsoever.
Hope this weekned isn't too tough on you. Snuggle extra with your three other loves.

Okay...I thought I would shut up but I have to tell you something funny from a funeral. My mother-in-law, Jeanette, was a Southern girl from Dallas who died tragically several years ago. We took great pains to make her funeral special - to honor her - and to help us deal with the pain. Several of the family members met to give their input about the type of service and who should participate. When it came to who would be the soloist, Aunt Josephine said, "Oh, honey, we have to have Alma." and the others immediately agreed. My husband and I were sitting in the front row during the service and Alma began sing. It was horrible!!!!! Not just 1 song, not 2, but 3 songs! -- all equally horrible! I was mortified and embarrassed! This beautiful service for my mother-in-law and Alma can't carry a tune! What were they thinking? The rest of the service was lovely and I had for awhile forgotten about Alma. On the way to the cemetery, my husband and I were riding in the "family car" with Aunt Josephine and the other family members who helped arrange the service....and I suddenly remembered "Alma"! I asked Josephine, "Who is Alma? Why would you have her sing?" And Aunt Josephine answered in her Southern drawl, "Oh, darlin', I know Alma can't carry a tune. But you know, Jeanette just loved her singing!" And that's all it took to break the pain and sorrow we were feeling that day. We all laughed and had started sharing happy memories of the funny quirks my dear mother-in-law had.

Just wanted to share that...

You must be partly Irish. You sound like you are having a wake with the cat family. We do that. We have party after the burial, get to meet all the new members of the extended family, laugh and cry, eat a lot, and generally renew our family relationships.

Roy was a lucky cat. He had a life filled with love and attention, and he had companionship. You were lucky to have had him as one of your buoys when you were at sea. I hope that you get tipsy, sing a song of remembrance, dance with your cats, and generally celebrate the life of a catperson who is, now and forever, part of who you are.
Hugs.

My ex-MIL once left her daughter in a shopping cart and drove away. She was tired and pre-occupied. You are grieving. Glad you got your purse back, but you shouldn't feel bad about leaving it behind.

My contributions to humour: stupid fish jokes!

Q: How many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: Fish

Q: What do you call a fish with no eyes?
A: Fsshhh.

That last one is better if you say it out loud...

And if you want something else to distract you:
http://www.knittyboard.com/viewtopic.php?t=60641&postdays=0&postorder=asc&start=0
A whole bunch of funny stuff that kids say.

My brood is so fed up with the extra lovin' they've been getting that they've started to run away from me. Glad yours are enjoying the new treats.

Laurie, if you're crazy, then we all are. The new catsitter came over the other night to meet Harley, the CAT. I showed her pictures of the DOG, who's been gone 2 and a half years. I didn't cry, though, so I think maybe I'm making progress.

I don't think my grandma's recipe for green been casserole had cheese in it. I guess I'd better try your version to see if it's better. What kind of wine do you recommend?

Love to you and your little Roy angel.

I had to switch vets after my kitty died, because I howled in the exam room and am still too embarrassed to go back (although, yes, I know - I am sure I am not the first or the last). Once I came out to pay *without* my kitty an older lady said to me, "How's your kitty doing?" and I cried again.

On a happy note 3 sassy felines have joined our household since then, and they have brought us much joy. I think that officially makes me part of the crazy cat lady club.

It will take time to heal - all of our thoughts and prayers are with you.

I'm so sorry about Roy!

My first cat got old and died when I was 18. I remember being shocked at how sad I was - trying to hide from my teachers the fact I was crying in class the next day. So yeah, I don't think you're crazy for being so upset. No crazier than the Laurie we know and love, anyway.

you, simply, are an inspiration

When my cat died, it was like I lost a child. I cried for months. I'm so sorry for your loss. Roy sounded so wonderful, he was lucky to have you in his life.
My thoughts and prayers are with you.

I'm so sorry for you loss. I just had to share my cat story with you, because Roy really reminds me of how steadfast a companion my cat Onyx has been to me. She's 19 years old now and she's been with me since I was 16. (Go ahead. Do the math. See how old I am.) She's been through so much with me and I've poured so much love into her. She's seen me through numerous bad break-ups, including the one where my fiancee dumped me to "find happiness." (Ha!) I'm not sure what I'm going to do when she passes. Mainly I love in a world with rose-colored glasses permanently affixed. I just cannot imagine my life without her. Basically, I'm trying to tell you that I understand how screwed up you must feel right now.

Again, I'm so sorry for your loss. I grew really fond of Roy through your blog and I shed more then a few tears when I learned of his passing.

I'm glad to see a post from you. I have had one cat pass away, several years ago, and I was pretty much like you described. My boss at the time let me bury him in her backyard. She had incredibly hard soil, and I insisted on digging the hole myself. Well, I wasn't all that strong and ended up losing my sh*t when I couldn't dig the hole. I sat there sobbing with the shovel. And then I broke it. Her husband ended up digging the hole with 1/2 a broken shovel.

It was traumatic enough that I couldn't bring myself to have another pet for 5 years. I now have 2 cats, and I adore them.

Hang in there.

By the way, I'm Southern as well & from Texas, and I can't say that I have had a green bean casserole with cheese. It sounds lovely. I will give it a shot as a side dish to my tater tot casserole. :)

Take care,
Suzanne

I used to leave my 'going out' purse everywhere (it was too small for me to keep track of as I usually carry luggage) until I made myself a few of these nifty little bracelet bags. Found the pattern on a crazy cat lady's blog.....

Laurie, keep laughing whenever possible. Two years ago we lost my mom, my brother AND the dog over 6 months. Laughing was the only thing that kept me sane. (((HUGS)))

I'm so sorry about Roy's passing. And it's totally understandable that you'd forget your purse. Losing mere identity papers and credit cards cannot compare to the loss of Roy, where your heart is.

May casseroles and jokes and our heartfelt empathy help soften the intense pain just a little bit.

A few words of consolation...you are not crazy just because you left your handbag in your buggy at the supermarket in a haze of grief. My mom does this on a regular basis. She might be a LITTLE crazy...but you have an excuse. Don't beat yourself up.

I had missed a week or two of reading and was so sad to read about Roy (he was the spitting image of my own medical-crisis-loving cat, Frodo). The way I looked at it, when Frodo's companion Sam died two years ago, is this...don't feel crazy for being so upset over losing a pet. They stick around when all but the best people don't. Frodo and Sam were there before any of the boyfriends showed up, they weeded out the bad ones, and they were there when the boys were long gone.

Drinking a glass for you tonight, darling, much love...

you, roy and the other kittys at chez poop, will always be in our thoughts.

Oh man, I love love love me some green bean casserole. *heart*

My wonderful grandparents both died in February. My grandfather was always telling funny stories and cracking jokes, even in serious situations. He was also very proud of his Irish heritage. We brought his gardening hat and his favorite t-shirt (which said, "You can always tell an Irishman... but you can't tell him much") to the wake and set them up in the corner. All of the family thought that was completely appropriate.

Even though we don't know each other, you and Roy are in my thoughts, and I'm sending mental hugs your way.

Laurie, you and Roy kept popping in my head all day today. If I were close to you, I would wear an ugly tie and bring you a macaroni and cheese casserole. And a big hug. Thinking of you...

I was driving along today and started thinking about Roy, and started getting all teary again, and I'd never even met him, so I can't imagine what it's like for you (although I think I'm channeling your run-on-sentence-ability pretty well, so maybe I'm more in tune to you than I realize).

I've left my purse in the buggy before, got all the way home, drove back and it was still there. I also left it on the steps of a campus classroom, went to class, came back over an hour later and it was still there. I think people are afraid to touch it, figuring there must be something terribly wrong with it or something scary inside. And I didn't even have anything profound on my mind when I left it, I just sort of do ditzy things on a regular basis.

So, a 3-legged dog walks into a bar. Bartender says, "Can I help you?"

The dog says, "I'm looking for the man that shot my paw!"

Hugs and love coming your way girl. There's nothin easier to love or harder to lose than a good pet!

I've tried for 10 minutes to come up with something witty and/or comforting. Nothing. So I'll leave you with my favorite dad-ism.

"The door is ajar."
"No it's not, it's a door!"

See, funny!

p.s. (((HUGS)))
p.p.s. If you figure out how to get the cats to sign those longevity contracts, please pass your method along.

A piece of yarn walks into a bar.

The bartender says, "I'm sorry, we don't serve your kind in here."'

So the yarn walks out, ties her top part in a knot, messes up her hair, and walks back in.

The bartender asks, "Aren't you the yarn that was just in here?!"

The yarn says, "No, I'm a frayed knot."

Made me cry again damn it. I lost my 2 lhasa apso after 16 years last year and I still miss them and think of them both everyday. I don't know what you did with Roy but I had my girls cremated and have their ashes in urns, in my wallunit, with their picture and a very sad poem. I don't care what anyone thinks about this (my sister), it brings me comfort. Amazing how attached we become. Maybe you can go out and rescue another Roy? Get him to tell you his name :)

I'm so sorry to hear about Roy. You are not "crazy for being this upset" though. I promise. Six years ago, I lost all three cats in about two weeks under odd circumstances (and the policeman did NOT take me seriously). I still miss them, a lot. It stops hurting, and you stop crying. But, they stuck with me through so much and I will never forget how much love they had to give me when I needed it.

A mushroom walks into a bar and the bartender says "We don't serve your kind here."

The mushroom says - "Why not? I'm a fungi."

I walked into a bar and said, "Give me a beer before problems start!"

Again, I order a beer saying, "Give me a beer before problems start!"

The bartender looks confused. This goes on for a while, and after the fifth beer the bartender is totally confused and asks me, "When are you going to pay for these beers?"

I answer, "Ah, now the problems start!"

A man walks into a bar with a dog. The bartender says, "Hey buddy, can't you read that sign? It says no dogs allowed! Get that mutt out of here!"

The man replies, "No, I can't read the sign - I'm blind, and this is my seeing eye dog."

The bartender is embarrassed and gives the man a beer on the house. Later that day, the guy is telling his friend about it: "I told him I was blind and I got a free beer!"

The friend then takes his dog into the bar and sits down, and the bartender says, "The sign says no dogs allowed! You'll have to leave!"

The friend says, "Sorry, I can't see the sign because I'm blind, and this is my seeing eye dog."

The bartender replies, "Since when do they give out Chihuahuas as seeing eye dogs?"

The man says, "They gave me a Chihuahua?"

Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this taste funny to you?"

"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The green, green grass of home.'"

Doc says, "That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome."

"Is it common?"

"It's not unusual."

I was useless for three whole days after we lost our cat last September, and she and I weren't nearly as close as she and my husband were.

Cats are something special, and to have one as amazing as Roy in your life is truly extraordinary. Words cannot express how sorry I am for your loss.

Q: what do you call a bunch of unhappy rabbits who have been sitting on a radiator too long?

A: HOT CROSS BUNS!

Q: How would you describe a chorus line of dancing rabbits, when one of them trips, falls down and breaks her leg?

A: A HARELINE FRACTURE!!

Somebody STOP me, please! This is soooo wrong!

Oh, Aunt P, I am SO very sorry to hear about Roy's passing. My heart goes out to you.

Incidentally, I still cry sometimes when I talk about this awesome cat, Charley, that I had who died almost TEN YEARS AGO. I tell myself this is totally normal.

I have been praying for you and your kitty family ever since I read about Roy. No you are not going crazy, you are grieving. I oughta know cuz caring for grieving people is part and parcel of my job as a church pastor. It will take a while, only God knows how long until the intense grief passes.

Speaking of funerals, I can't believe God called me into the ministry because I'm always the one who laughs at a funeral. I've had to learn how to control my laughing/joking urges in order to do my job effectively. Recently I did a funeral for a police officer and let me tell you those boys can eat. There was sooooo much food and lots left over. At the reception I announced that we wanted to double the size of the church so eat up boys!!!

God bless you and your family.

Hang in there girl!!

I am so sorry you're sad. But OH MY GOD, does that sound like a tasty casserole.

Oh, and {hug}, my friend. Give yourself time. I well remember that painful, heavy hole in my chest. :(

You are not crazy, despite the purse incident. You are grieving. It's not quite the same thing, but sometimes looks similar. You will always have a Roy shaped hole in your heart, but I promise you it won't always hurt this much. When I had to put my sweet Zelda Jane to sleep (she was a black lab), I couldn't even walk in the dog food aisle at the grocery store. And this was despite the fact that I STILL HAD ANOTHER DOG AT HOME THAT NEEDED TO BE FED. Grief makes you do weird things.

Kiss your three kitties, hug them, and make them swear to (and notarize) a statement promising to never die. Even if this annoys the heck out of them. It will make you feel a tad better.

You had Roy, I had Hanna, the coolest dog ever. I won't get into why she was the coolest dog ever, you'll just have to take my word for it.

Hanna was sick for about a year before she passed. Luckily, I had been at my firm long enough where I had the standing and the sick time to leave mid-day to take Hanna to her appointments.

One day when I was gone, my co-workers had a meeting behind my back (in a nice way) to figure out what to do when I would eventually lose her. Yeah, an entire regional office of a national law firm planned how they would handle me when Hanna needed to move on.

I lost her five years ago. I still talk about her, and not just when people loose a special pet.

You're not crazy. Roy was your heart cat. There's nothing crazy about that.

Laurie - if I lived anywhere near you right now, I'd be bringing casseroles to your house for you. That's what my family always does when someone loses a loved one, and I wish I could do that for you. Except mine would come with box wine and maybe a funny movie or two. (((hugs)))

dear Laurie, I have gone through the grief of losing my 14 year old german shepard who I had had since he was 8 weeks old. Last Christmas day I lost my "monster" cat, he had an aneurysm. Earlier yet another old girl. It just doesn't get any easier. You are not crazy. I missed work, cried at work, cried in the grocery store, at the vet. People who love animals understand. The house is just never the same again. It gets better and it's ok, but just never the same. I'm still so sad for you. It will get better. You and Roy had such a special bond that will always be with you. He had a wonderful life. I'm thinking of you and going to give all of my "babies" (all 13 of them) an extra hug tonite. Yes, I AM the crazy cat lady in my town. love you girl!

If I could, I'd bring a bottle of wine and share that casserole with you. And I'd bring a long a wrapped box, and in that box would be the loudest, most obnoxious tie that would beat out uncle Ronnel's and make you laugh. oh, and chocolate too. chocolate from Moonstruck.
...Tarzan came home from work and when Jane asked how his day way was, he replied, Jane, it's a jungle out there...

I'm still just speechless. I've sat here and cried with and for you for two nights in a row. I went and hugged and kissed the cats (much to their dismay) and laughed because you're right, when there's a death you need a casserole. or fried chicken. It's just The Way Things Are.

many hugs to you and the felines.

My grandmother passed away on a Sunday. On Monday, we received a ton of food (lots of ham and fried chicken and pimento cheese salad) before the funeral on Tuesday. My sisters and I were in the kitchen when my aunt dropped by with a huge cooler and some ice so we could safely stow the overflow.

As she set things down, she began apologizing for not bringing the cooler earlier. "I don't know why I didn't think to bring this over on Saturday! Saturday would have been so much more convenient for ya'll! I'm so sorry!"

We reminded my aunt that my grandmother had not died until Sunday.

"Still!" she said, "I should have thought to bring it Saturday. I'm so sorry!" This is the way of the southern woman--we can make anything our fault.

You are not doing anything badly, or wrong, Laurie. You are handling it superbly. Leaving your purse is an expression of grief. Being in a brain fog is an expression of grief. Crying your eyes out is an expression of grief. You're grieving. It's very good to do that. And however you do that is just exactly the right way to do it. Okay?

Oh yeah, and now, when it's time to take something to a grieving family, I always offer to bring a cooler and ice.

I sent a link to The Story of Roy to my husband; hes heard all about you for months. He read the story and cried..he liked Roy.

A man has a dog called Mace, which he keeps in the house all the time, because all it does is eat grass. He also has a favorite tool, his wrench, which he uses all the time. One day He lost his wrench. He looks every where for it but can't find it. The dog gets out, eats all his grass and there in the middle of the lawn is his wrench. The man starts singing "A grazing Mace how sweet the hound, that saved a wrench for me".

Did you hear about the disaster at sea? A boat carrying purple paint collided with a boat carrying red paint. Luckily no one was injured, but both crews were marooned.

Laurie,

My heart is broken for you as I know the feelings you have and will have...so many "firsts" to get through. Try to be happy that Roy got to live a long life and know that he is in a good place now.

Just a note about how "lost" you feel. When I lost my cat Tina years ago, I was so sad, but I wasn't ready for a new kitty yet, it was too soon, and my Aunt had offered me the last of her cats litter - but it was an all white cat like Tina and that was the only color I didn't want, I was afraid I would call her by my old cats name.

I didn't realize how lost I was until one night I was at Hills Department Store and they made the anouncement they were closing and I thought - Heck, I better get what I came for and get in line. What did I come for? What was it I wanted? I stood there in that store and could not think of one single thing I needed. I realized I was just avoiding being at home alone. I can still remember right where I was in the store as that dawned on me. I cried and ran to my car.

The next day after work I drove to my Aunts house and said Do you still have that kitten? She said I wondered when you would come for her.

That kitten became my "special cat" the one who knew and loved me best. She was almost 18 when she died a few years ago. She saw me through many things and I still miss her often. (and I never called her by my other cats name as their purr-sonalities were completly different)

But I know my Sasha is in a good place now and I will see her again someday. Just like you will see Roy again.

Take care
Julie

And here I thought my family was the only one who cracked themselves up telling "Mommy Mommy" jokes at my grandmother's funeral. What you need is some of that green bean casserole, about a gallon of sweet tea spiked with sippin' whiskey, and a pecan pie (fork required, plate optional). You take care of yourself-- we're thinking of you.

We have some really interesting family names as well. Aunt Mert (Myrtel), Uncle Skeet, Great Aunt Pokey (Pocahantas), Whitey (my Uncle Chuck), and Ducky (my mom's nickname, which is weird because her name is Lizbeth and IS THAT NOT SOUTHERN ENOUGH??).

I have two things to share, which I hope will help. Maybe they only help ME in the sharing, but perhaps they'll help you too, or someone else who reads this.

First, when my best friend's mother died while we were in high school, we were the most crazy, irreverent, silly, grieving kids there ever were. We decided very early on, before the funeral, even, that Lynn (my friend) had the rest of her life to grieve for her mother, so any and all humor was not only welcomed, it was sought after, inappropriate or not. And I do think that attitude helped. Laughter through tears is truly a gift and a blessing.

Secondly, when I turned 13, I was given a kitten for my birthday. (Actually, I begged for one and my parents relented). That cat lived 17 years, until I was 30, even surviving a near fatal lung infection when she was 12. We grew up together and went through a lot. When she died, I was absolutely devastated and absolutely unprepared for how devastated I would be. I had just moved back home from living out of state, and was saving to buy a house, so I'd hide in my room at my parents house every night and cry. And it about wrecked me at work -- I couldn't take any time off to deal with it, and I couldn't stand when anyone asked about my cat, because it reduced me to a weeping mess. I had no one to help me with my grief, and it pains me to this day to think about that time. I even checked out a book from the library called Pet Loss, but couldn't read it, it hurt too much.

I now have two twelve year old furry girls who I know will someday leave me, and most days I think I'll be able to handle that time when it comes, but sometimes I wonder.... Reading about your pain brings it all right back for me.

BUT.... You've got something I didn't have back then -- a worldwide support group cheering you on here, ready to listen and comfort and console. I'm so glad you've got that. And I know that when the time comes again for me to say goodbye to my girls, I can blog about it and it will help, if even just a little bit.

So, three cheers for modern technology!

Finally, I'll leave you with something I thought was humorous:

Drill Sergeant (shouting): "Where ya from, recruit?"
Recruit (shouting): "Texas, Sir!"
DS (shouting): "Texas!?!"
Recruit (shouts): "Yes, Sir!"
DS (shouting): "I hear all they have in Texas are STEERS and...".
Recruit: "Yes, sir?"
DS (shouting): "STEERS, and OTHER FORMS OF LIVESTOCK!"

(Won't seem as funny if you haven't seen "An Officer and a Gentleman")

A love note to Laurie from Roy:

"... when you think of me, please remember that I was almost always a very good cat, and that we loved each other very much."

It's a tearjerker, but so's love. When we love with our whole heart, then it breaks when we can't any more. Tincture of time, amiga.....

Laurie,
It's taken me two days to be able to write this message, as I've been fostering kittens and lost one on the very day you wrote about Roy. Although I had him for only 5 days, I'd gotten pretty attached to the little guy and his little meow whenever I went into the bathroom.

What I want to say (and I'm not certain if this is exactly it) is I admire your ability to write so beautifully about Roy. Your memories of him helped me to not focus on the difficulties of my loss, but on the time I had with my little guy. Thank you for showing me that this is possible.

I wish you the best as you work through this time. I keep you in my thoughts.

Best,
Nancy C.

I'm so impressed with this outpouring of love and empathy from our community... my cats are my kids, and I totally get the place Roy held in your heart.
But still, I'm compelled to share my funny funeral story: East coast Roman Cahtolic family, Grandpop has been 'viewed' at the funeral home, and as is the protocol, the family is riding in a limo behind the hearse on the way to the cemetary for the interment. This should, of course, be a solomn time. To this day no one (of the five of us) is sure what it was that set us off exactly- but all of us (including Grandpop's own son, my father) were howling hysterically with laughter as we drove to the cemetary. I vividly remember the look of chastisement I saw in the limo driver's eyes in the rear view mirror- but we just couldn't stop. It really eased the hurt, ya know?
Find those laughs where you can. Much love to you!

In case anyone doubted you, tump is SO a word - i.e. "Who tumped over my co-cola?" (Can you tell I, too, am from the south?)

Hang in there, girly girl - I'm channeling you some u-burn-em rolls to go with that casserole (another standby at southern funerals!)

Ack, I so know what you mean. Well ok I haven't left my purse anywhere yet but I'm reserving my options...one of my faithful mogs is curled up beside me - since my useless husband (EX-husband but as that's only been official a couple of days I keep forgetting) left, it's been a huge comfort to have two small felines waiting for me at the door every day. He gets the house and I get the cats and I got the better deal. A house can't curl up beside you, now can it. I'll be distraught when anything happens to them, but that's the deal isn't it? It's all because you care. Big hugs to you. xx

I'm still saddened by the news of Roy and am at work looking at pictures of my cat, anxious to get home to give him a big hug. I'd lose it too if my cat passed away, so grieve away Laurie. A good friend is deserving of that...along with a pan of brownies and blended mudslides.

Hugs from N. Calif.

Sweetheart, just (((((((BIG HUGS))))))) are what I wish I could give you. I've been there before and it hurts like the devil. My sweet Raphael cat passed away unexpectedly, and I thought the whole city could hear me screaming and crying. I took two days off of work (unheard of where I work) because I just couldn't function.

I don't know if this will help you, but it did calm me. Animals don't worry about things as people do. Roy didn't worry about getting old, he didn't worry about not seeing the world, he didn't worry about not playing with enough fuzzy toys. He was happy when he was happy in the moment. And you made him so happy in his life. You gave him so much love.

I have two new boy kids now, and though they will never replace Raphael, I love them so much.

I cried yesterday too. I had to go to the bathroom to cry.

You will feel better, but you will never ever ever forget him.

Damn it, I'm crying again.

I loved Roy even though we never met in real life. But it is nothing compared to your love for him.

Please take care of youself and cry and scream all you want to, for as long as you want. Roy was one damn beautiful cat.

Just a hug for you and Roy. I'll tell my cat, Mocha, all about him too, but she's a bit like Soba. He will always love you.

i've never posted before, but your post yesterday made me bust out in tears. count me among the many other people that understand completely what you're going through.

i got a cat last year, just after i moved, started my professional career...and got dumped by someone i truly loved. i'm nuts about my little furball, and i can't imagine how devastated i'll be, years from now, when she eventally passes on. love and blessings and happiness to you, laurie.

Laurie, we lost our cat Dusty, a gray and white tiger, a while back. He adopted my husband when he was a wee kitten, and grew up to be a big, sturdy guy, the smartest cat I’ve ever known. Dusty ruled us, the dog, and our other cats, with an iron paw. When he died, he left a huge hole in our hearts.

One day, I was washing the dishes, and noticed out of the corner of my eyes that Rocky (cat) was uncharacteristically sniffing the floor and cabinets near my feet. I glanced down and there was a smaller version of Dusty smiling up at me, his vivid green eyes sparkled as he told me to not worry, he was just fine. He disappeared when I blinked.

Later that year, my husband and his partner went up Northern California to meet with a potential client, a large estate in the Wine Country. A big, sturdy, gray and white tiger cat, with vivid green eyes ran up to greet him, by standing up on his hind legs, and begged to be petted. Yup, it was Dusty, even his partner who knew him, had to confirm it. The employees at the resort where amazed because the cat just appeared one day, and never let anyone touch him.

So now whenever we think of him, we know that he is wandering a beautiful estate in the Wine Country, living out his “new” life in his version of kitty heaven.

You're not crazy!!
I never thought of bacon in that casserole as someone else suggested but I think you should have it with bacon for Roy. And with cream of chicken soup and cheese and green beans and onions, I don't know why you need anything else with it. Sounds like a complete meal to me! Just add wine.

Here's a Southern name story. I had this non-Southern friend whose last name was Bell. She visited a Southern friend's home. She introduced herself to the friend's mother. The mother said, "Oh, Mary Bell, what a lovely name! Now what did you say your last name was, dear?"

And here is my favorite joke ever, which I think probably also says something true as well as funny.

The flood is rising, and this guy is standing in his front door watching the water wash over his front steps. Some neighbors go by in a truck and call out to him. "Come on, you better come with us, soon you won't be able to get out!" But he says, "Nope, I'm not leaving. I've been a faithful man all my life and I know the Lord will take care of me."

A while later, and he's looking out his upstairs window because the front door's under water now, and a rescue boat comes by. Again they try to get him to come, and again he refuses: "I trust the Lord to look out for me."

A bit later still, and he's perched on the roof clinging to the chimney to keep from being carried away. A police helicopter comes by and they try to rescue him, but once again, he will not leave. "I know the Lord will save me."

Well, of course, it's only a few minutes later that he loses his grip, is swept away, and drowns. When he arrives before the Lord, he says, "Lord, Lord, I don't understand. All my life I was faithful to you, I thought you would look out for me and protect me, but you let me drown! What gives?" And the Lord replies: "My son, of course I was watching out for you. I sent you a truck, a boat and a helicopter. What more did you want?"

Laurie, your words are magic. And Roy was the best. We'll all miss that special little guy. Take comfort in knowing you gave him the best life he could have had.

What helps me when I'm upset is to stay very, very busy. When my "Roy" passed away six years ago, I cleaned out all the closets, swept & mopped all the floors, loaded up a bunch of boxes to take to Goodwill, vacuumed everything that didn't move and dusted the entire house. (You can always tell how long it's been since I've had a major trauma by how messy the house is!)

I'll tell you my favorite joke, but be warned; it's outrageously politically incorrect. (Don't send me hate mail, anyone, 'cause I know you laughed! Admit it!)

What do you call four Mexicans in quicksand?

...Quatro Sink-o...

Laurie,
When our sweet Abby the dog passed on almost 3 years ago, my husband and I were completely wrecked, so I know exactly how bone deep awful it is. We couldn't be in the now way too quiet and empty house (we had no other pets - it might have been a comfort to have others I think) and when friends asked us to stay over we jumped at the chance. I'll always be grateful to those friends for being there at a terrible time for us. In the time of grief and weirdness, I did a strange thing which I'll share with you because I have the southern thing too. Because my husband had Abby from a puppy (before me) I felt even worse for him, and knowing he loved the movie "The Nightmare Before Christmas", with the skeleton guy Jack and his dog, I went online and bought my husband about every "skeleton and Jack" souvenir there was. I tell you this because grief makes you do weird things, and you are not alone. Our pets are our family. Take care of yourself in this hard time!

The day of and the day after I found my kitty Bernie I was done for. NOt a whole lot got done and that was all there was to it.

It's grieving, plain and simple. And it makes sense to want a break to laugh. Of course.

How are your other cats doing? I imagine that Soba must know something is missing - from what I understand, Roy was very much her favorite feline. It's truly remarkable to see how animals react to loss - sometimes it's more painful to watch their emotions than a human.

Warm and best thoughts for you today Laurie. Your Roy stories made me laugh yesterday and also well up at your loss.

I think losing special animals is sometimes harder than losing humans. Just take care and be kind to yourself and know that you and Roy were made for each other and that you made him happy too.

Laurie,
I'm so sorry for your loss. Since I've been reading your blog, one of my favorite things has been your stories of your beloved cats. Roy has always reminded me of my very own Miss Kitty. Like Roy, she had a tough start in life, but she didn't let it get her down. I hope that you can take some comfort in knowing that you were Roy's angel -- you completely changed his life and made it a happy one!

I made my husband promise to not, under any circumstances, have the unmitigated gall to die before I do, though I would prefer ever. It's one of the basic tenets of our marriage. So attempting to make the cats promise is not outrageous at all!!
Thank you for being there are giving us words for our own grief stories.

FD

Oh, sweetie! I went through the same thing when my beloved Beezel died. I was constantly surprised by how much it could just keep hurting. It's been three years and I still miss him like crazy, but I can remember the funny stuff too, like the time he tried to jump on top of the fishtank but didn't realise the lid was off because we were cleaning it. He sulked and smelled like fishtank water for two solid days......

I wanted to tell you yesterday that my Agatha sat on my lap while I was writing a sermon one late Saturday night and told me that her name was Agatha. It took us almost four months. She came with the name Missy.... but we both knew better. Thank the Lord I'm not a crazy cat talker. Nope. Now I know I've got company. And they DO tell us stuff. They do. I've been singing "in the morning when i rise...." since I read your post. Peace, Laurie, and pass the casserole.

I found Cynthia Rylant's books, written for children, to be very good in dealing with grief over a pet. Read them alone, with LOTS of tissues, but they do help with good thoughts.

http://www.amazon.com/Cat-Heaven-Cynthia-Rylant/dp/0590100548/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-1653458-1365565?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1184371848&sr=1-1

I'm huddled down here, well on the way to 300 comments. Laurie, remember this. If you ever feel really, truly alone. You are not. A simple story, about one of your furry soulmates made over 1500 people want to let you know that they understood. Those are the ones that posted comments then. More will come and they will be touched. You have always been, and will be, a person who touches others. Grace and humor under fire - after all, you didn't injure anyone on the way back to the store to get your purse, right? ehrm, right?

***hugs***

Going crazy is normal. So is making jokes. I tend to make them inadvertently. The most outrageous things just come right out of my mouth, with me listening in stunned astonishment. Sometimes they're really, really good 'uns, and major zingers. [veg]

When my husband died, my step-daughter and I dreaded going to the family memorial at his mother's house. (We had the *real* wake later.) For one thing, Mike was one of the two black sheep of the family. For another, both Tina and I never felt like we belonged. She grew up with her mom only 50 miles away, but her grandmother or the rest of the family never visited. I mean, *never*. Way to make a kid welcome, eh? Me, well, my family was very different from Mike's. They thought I was weird, *and* I was the second wife who was 9 years younger than him. Plus every time he and I visited, I also swore they kept expecting us to steal the family silver.

So on a snowy, icy day (really unusual in Portland, OR), we two reluctantly drive over to my MIL's house, and sit around making stiff conversation with everyone there, waiting for Mike's only surviving brother to arrive. The brother with the successful contracting business. The brother with the blonde, totally WASPy gorgeous wife who always had a perfect manicure. The brother and wife whose 'casual' clothes looked like they'd just left a fashion shoot. Perfect etiquette, perfectly groomed, coiffed, tanned and in shape, always.

And they get there an hour late. (C'mon, even up here in that kind of weather, with us being lousy drivers in those conditions, 15 miles does not take that long to drive once the streets have been cleared.) They come in.

We are all wearing clothing suitable for a funeral. You know. Nice, but subdued.

Mike's brother has on hiking boots, old jeans with a rip, a plaid flannel shirt, and several inches of scruffy beard. (Never seen him with a beard, ever.) His wife still has the manicure, but is wearing dirty tennis shoes, worn jeans (not stylishly [g]), and a ratty old sweatshirt. They look like they've been out camping in the real backwoods for two weeks or so. Accidentally. You do not need to dress like this for traveling through Portland after the streets have been cleared of snow, even if it's still icy. Trust me. Before, well, different matter, but they didn't have to dress like they'd need to dig out of a snowdrift.

They get inside, take us all in with our decent funeral-type clothes, get identical uncomfortable expressions and turn bright red...you could just *see* the big, flashing neon sign over their heads blinking, "Major faux pas!"

And I, the bereaved widow, open my mouth and hear myself say, "Hi, Richard; going casual today?"

When Tina and I finally escaped a couple of endless dreary hours later, we had to sit in her car parked in front of the house and laugh 15 minutes before she could trust herself to drive!

And I'd add what I consider the *best* brownie recipe in the world here, but this is long enough. You just go on feeling how you feel, hon, and to hell with what anyone else thinks. Joke 'em if they can't take a screw. ::hugs::

When my cat, Tai, passed, I decided I was going to drink until it didn't hurt anymore. I called in sick to work, stopped off at the liquor store and drove home, parking my car in front of the house. Through experimentation, it stops hurting about 5 minutes before you pass out, then starts again with gusto in the morning. I awoke to find my car gone. I had parked in a no parking after 3 pm zone at 2:55pm. The police had towed my car.
I think grief steals the mind. You need chocolate chip cookies and mac'n cheese. That's what my family makes when someone dies.

Short PS - considering all the women with rotten ex's who left 'em for younger women? I wasn't that kind of second wife; Girl Sprout honor. Mike had been divorced for about 7 years when I met him. And a size 22 at the time wouldn't count as a "trophy" in this country of ours. [g]

Grief takes as long as it takes. Don't let anyone tell you you've cried long enough.
Five years ago Mom and Dad died six weeks apart. My brother and his family and I laughed so hard at the funeral that non-family members said, "Look at those poor children, they're sobbing because they're broken hearted." Really, we were laughing hysterically into our hankies. Keep going and eventually the good memories will over take the grief.

Oh Laurie,
It's "funny" (ha ha -- not)...I emailed you a month or so ago after my cat's godmother (who knits and has four cats) sent me your blog link and said to check it out "when I felt strong enough". I had four cats too until my beloved Walter died totally unexpectedly, and rather painfully and traumatically, on May 18th and, well, you know the grief and despair and massive hole in the heart that nothing else can fill or touch. Not even a house full of three other cats and one insane dawg. I still cry daily. Walter was not just my friend/pet/companion/jokester...he was like a partner/mate/husband to me. He was my heart. Like your Roy, my Walter saw me through so much pain, loss, fear, trauma and change. He slept with me every night through every day of it all for nearly 11 years. He was the reason for my recent major life change, and he waited until all the changes had taken place and we were settled before leaving. Like you said, I'd give anything if I could re-do the last 30 minutes of his life with him. Now I'm crying.

The journey since that day has been surreal. Lots of thinking/praying/ruminating/healing/searching/walking/writing. I couldn't touch wine for 3 weeks, I was that afraid of totally plunging off the tiny sliver of sanity ledge I was teetering on so precariously. Once I started drinking wine again, I remembered immediately why I'd stayed away. Sob City. It just lubes up the morose factor so much some nights.

I started a mosaic blog that immediately turned into a Walter Memorial Blog. Today I gave my cats their own damn blog. Maybe the other cats can channel Walter at times. I felt incredibly alone going thru this horrendous loss, and I'd do that differently next time as well. How very blessed you are to have so many "strangers" care so much about you and your furs that they would take the time to extend that love your way. It never gets easier, but it does finally ease up, just a tiny bit, as the months pass. Speaking totally as one who knows this very fresh terrain of the grieving heart.

Love to you all,
Laura

So sorry about Roy. We're going through the same thing here. Our 14-year-old springer spaniel, Minnow, is on her last legs. She has been so disoriented the past 24 hours, but she is pretty much resting comfortably on her bed. Our kitty, Lily, and our chocolate lab, Coho, take turns sitting by her side. It's so difficult to watch a longtime friend go. My husband and I picked her up on our way home from a trip to British Columbia years ago. We had had two other springers for years and both had recently died. We brought Minnow home and stuck her under the sheets in our oldest son's bed, so he woke up with a puppy wriggling around. She has been a wonderful dog, although I think she did have a touch of dementia lately. I told my husband that somedays I feel like I'm running a home for mentally challenged animals. I also think that I would like to pitch a "Cooking for Pets" show to Food Network. Everytime I'm in the kitchen, all three are always there watching every move I make (and hoping I'll drop something). Minnow has been in great shape up until the end and spent last week at the same lake home in Northern Minnesota that we have been going to with friends for the past 25+ years. I'm glad she had one more summer there. Condolences to you. These things are tough.

I've had two furry feline angels, Lionel and Gustus, go to heaven in the past year and I've sent them a message (telepathically of course) to be on the look out for Roy. They'll take him under their wings. And now I need a glass of wine to toast all three of them. Love to everybody's cats, Jodi

Dear Laurie,

I'm so sorry for your loss. I loved Roy, too, through your writing.

Reading about how he came into your life, I thought of some lines from a hymn: "...Love to the loveless shown, that they might lovely be." Well, that's what you were for Roy; through your love he became lovely. And in his own cat way, it sounds like that's what he was for you, too. (Anyone who thinks animals can't be vehicles of grace has never been close to one.) So cry your eyes out if you need to. You have it coming.

But I'll tell you my favorite joke. I'll warn you in advance that only about three people in the world think it's as hysterically funny as I do.

A man needed to buy a new horse and got word that another farmer about 5 miles down the road had one for sale. So he went to check it out.

When he got there, the horse looked good. It was young and strong, well groomed, saddle and harnass broke. But the price the seller was asking was suspiciously low.

After some prodding, the seller admitted, "Well, yessir, this horse does have just one little problem. He likes to sit on cabbages."

"What?"

"Well, this horse just likes to sit on cabbages. If you are riding him through a cabbage field he is going to stop dead and sit on a cabbage and refuse to move."

Well the buyer thought it over, and he didn't raise any cabbages and no one for miles around raised any cabbages, and the price was really low, so he bought the horse.

Things were going fine as he rode home, until they crossed a little creek, and the horse suddenly sat down and refused to move. The man cussed and swore and beat the horse, but the horse wouldn't move. So the guy trudged back to the seller to ask what the H*** was going on, because there most decidedly were not any cabbages in that creek.

"Oh," said the seller, "Oh yeah. Forgot to tell you. Horse likes to sit on fish, too."

Honey, I have been using tump since was a wee tiny girl, and you are the first non-member of my family I have heard use the word! Thank goodness for you. My thought and prayers are with you!
XOXO

I grew up in Maine, and my parents are midwesterners, but I was raised with death=food as well. My family has a tradition of baking though, since our grandma died and everyone brought casseroles, but we had nothing to offer the people who stopped by to sit and chat over coffee. My favorite grief baking now is an apple cinnamon pound cake that weighs about 15 pounds when it's done...it's from Cooking Light, so it's not THAT awful for you.

As far as the grief goes, be gentle and patient with yourself. I belong to a stillbirth support board, and have learned that there is no road map or rule book for grieving (it would be so much easier if there was). Do whatever you need to do to get through the rough patches. And remember all these posters, and know that you are never truly alone.

i had to put my two cats down within a couple of months of each other about 14 years ago, and i STILL cry whenever i think about it.

it's good that you're mourning properly. just keep an eye on your purse!

Well yesterday I couldn't post because I was sitting here with tears running down my face - heck I still tear up after 5 years about losing my dog.

I wish I had something that would make you feel better -

Oh gosh, Lauri -- I just read the last two posts. I am always truly amazed at just how witty you are, even when you are rightfully gloomy and sad.
I'm terribly, terribly sad for your loss.

Honey, you wouldn't know me from Eve, but I was born/raised in southeastern Oklahoma out in the sticks...and have been reading your blog since last summer when I taught myself how to crochet.

I am single, a teacher/librarian, mother of one beautiful daughter who recently married in May (she's 27)and I'm celebrating my 50th birthday a week from today (well, actually, I'm going to celebrate it next year cause I'm going to have lapband surgery this summer---so I figure if I'm going to celebrate it, I'll postpone it a year and celebrate it when I'm skinny---I know you understand the logic in this)...anyway, I have 2 cats, Simon (who looks identical to Roy except for the fang) and Prissy (adopted from a shelter)...and my daughter has a chocolate lab named Gracie. Now our pets are family and the live in the house with us and we've even taught Grace to herd the cats when necessary. Grace was a beautiful flower dog at the recent wedding. My daughter was married 4 years ago--and 3 months and 3 weeks later her handsome husband died in a freak accident at work. She moved in with me for the next 8 months and Gracie was bought when she was a tiny 2 month old--she was the best thing that ever happened to Kari at that time in her life....I'm tell ya I dread the day that dog dies...when she visits me, or I visit them, Gracie won't sleep with anyone but me! My new son-in-law in learning to appreciate the intelligence and devotion of Grace...and they've just adopted a little orange zippy cat named Pete. Pete and Grace are becoming friends...and I hope Gracie can get past being mopey and lonesome for the rest of the family. They moved to Galveston and the rest of us are still on the Texas/Oklahoma border.

I lost a beloved cat six years ago who stuck by me through a hysterectomy and melanoma, my daughter moving away for college, and a job change...I sobbed big ugly-faced weeping noisy cries for that cat!!! I still miss him. He used to bring me live mice! Once he carried in a dead bird ...only it wasn't really...it had just fainted!!

Being the good southern-raised Christian that I am, if I lived near ya, I'd drop by with a casserole---and since you obviously have a need for using up those monster zukes...I decided I'd share a recipe that you can use.

Squash Dressing

2 c. cooked squash
2 c. cooked cornbread, crumbled
1 stick margarine, melted
1 small onion, chopped
1 can cream of chicken soup
Mrs. Dash to taste

Bake cornbread and let cool; crumble. Dice squash and chop onion; cook in margarine until tender. Mix all ingredients together. Bake at 350 until lightly browned.

You know you can always add bacon and cheese to this to further improve the quality and taste!

Laurie, I share your sorrow and your good Texas-girl attempts to handle it. Oh course all good Southern girls go slightly nuts when sad and then try to find things to laugh at to make us not seem so nutty. After all, we wouldn't want the Yankees to know they can make us cry when the burn the plantation and pull up all this years cotton and okra, now would we? Several years ago I was out in Alabama looking after my mother who was in her 80's and suffering from dementia. My DH called and said a little black kitten had wandered out from under the neighbor's shed and had no home or family. He had been trying to catch said kit without luck. This was on Thursday. I got home on Saturday night but didn't see kit. Next morning there it was, tiny, starved and nearly comatose. I gathered her up carried her inside and put her in the bedroom. When we got home I got some food and fixed her a little plate then lay down on the bed and gathered her up. For three days we lay there, her on my chest listening to my heart. Ocassionally she would stumble up to the bathroom, eat a couple of bites, them stumble back to the bed and my chest. She was so tiny she fit in the palm of my hand and my hands are not big. We called her Mouse because she was so small. She finally got well enough to join the general population of furry family where she fit right in. At puberty she developed very bad grand mal epilepsy which we treated with phenobarb. Finally in the late spring this year, she just sort of faded away. She is the first of all of the cats I've lost that I've really grieved for because she was my baby and I was her mama. There now, I feel even worse about losing her. I'll send you a picture of my baby girl. She was a beauty and she actually lived nearly ten years so , with all her health problems that was pretty good. No comfort but pretty good. Go get another to fill your hear back up is the best advice I can give. I know people say they loved the lost one so much there is no replacing them but a new baby to love and care for does help. I have a whole house and yard full.
Ann Carpenter and her furry family and hubbo Michael in Dallas, Texas

Laurie, I wanted to comment on your previous post, but I couldn't stop crying--even now I'm tearing up. I'm so sorry about Roy. You're not a crazy cat lady, you just have more love to give than most of us and I'm glad Roy was able to share a part of your huge heart.

Best wishes, Laurie.

I read your post yesterday, cried, but could not comment. We lost a labrador retriever, Pepper, 25 years ago; her son Jack, 3 years ago; and now her grandson, Floyd, is ailing. We still miss Pepper and Jack. A picture or memory can still make me cry. My dogs and cats are my best friends, and it never fails to surprise me when people just don't get it. Their loss. There is nothing better, imo, than a pet that loves you unconditionally.

And for me, grief is best soothed by yarn.

Nothing beats a good cry and a casserole...NOTHING! and wine...lots of wine. Today after leaving a self checkout to buy formula with twins in tow, I realized when I was loading up said twins that I had no package and no wallet and no purse and no baby bag....more wine, please

I feel so fortunate to have been able to attend this wake. I can summon the green bean casserole to my palate, laugh at the jokes, weep with the weepers. We all have particular things that "happen" when we are tumped over and stressed out. Me, I lose my keys. In the house. Sometimes my reading glasses, too. I'm glad that the grocery guard had your purse for you. Sometimes nice people have a little luck.
I hope Roy's memory is soon burnished and soothing for you.

Laurie, My mouth is already watering after reading your recipe. Thank you for sharing and now I'm going to bed hungry and most likely will dream of Green Bean Casserole ;-)

Also, Chin up! The pain eases with time as i'm sure you've been told many times before. Roy will still live on in your heart and mind! Just give extra loving to the other kids because i'm sure their missing Roy Boy too!

Krystal

When Kioshi (old dog) died I went out and bought Owen (new dog) two beds, new treats, extra greenies and a bunch of toys. We have spoiled him mercilessly ever since. Not sure if it did anything for him, but it made me feel a hell of a lot better. They wrap around our lives, these furbabies. I am sorry for your loss.

Honey, do not give the purse incident another thought. The day I lost my beloved Boo kitty seven years ago, I decided to go to the bakery to drown my sorrows in my drug of choice: fried dough with massive sugar inside and out. But when I got there, I realized I didn't have any cash, only my checkbook. So rather than writing a check for .86, which would surely have required talking to the bakery-lady and explaining what was happening (no cash, kitty died, must have sugar), I decided to go another way: make it look like I HAD to write a check becauseI was buying pastries for the entire neighborhood. Grief logic at work.

That night, my husband came home to find the following on the kitchen counter (and I'm so not exaggerating):

one dozen plain doughnuts

one dozen crullers

one dozen with sprinkles

a half-dozen muffins

2 apple fritters (I'd eaten the other three already)

8 cupcakes (I'd eaten four on the way home)

and a red velvet cake (2 slices gone)

Grief + one world class emotional eater = a banner day for the local bakery.

It happens.

Oh--and while you're doing the Southern comfort food thing, don't forget the joys of biscuits and syrup.

Hugs from a fellow Southerner (temporarily displaced Out West)

When you are grieving, you are always a little crazy, remarkably distracted, and are a magnet for weird and bad things happening to you. When my husband died, I had two car accidents within 1 week, neither 1 my fault. When a friend had her ex-husband die a few years ago, I drove her to the airport, and kept her from walking into traffic on NY streets. You are distracted, grieving, and please ask any friend of yours to keep an 'eye' on you while you work through this. I have a cat and two dogs, and I know I will be grieving as hard for them when it is their time as I was when my husband died. Our pets are embedded deeply in our hearts and we deserve to be able to grieve for them as deeply as they have made us love them.

Eat, drink, do whatever you need to do to get through this. You obviously can see how much your suffering has resonated with other people's loss. Please know that everyone who has shared a loss like yours wishes the best for you. Your ability to retain some detachment and be able to write wittily about your loss is an incredible tribute to your stamina and your strength. You will work through this.

That green bean casserole is a staple at my Mom's house for any function. (She is originally from Arkansas, been in SoCal since the 50's). Her other "function" casserole type dish is something she calls "yummy potatoes", which you probably are familiar with. (Shredded potatoes with sour cream, onions, tons of cheese, baked until it all melted together - it was one of Dad's favorite dishes)

And I forgot to mention that Roy is the name of one of my dear Brothers. More love to all the past and present Roys out there, even the furry ones.

Honey, when Puggy died, I cried for weeks. All it took was someone asking me if I was okay. "Noooooo!" I'd sob. Did you know that you're expected by "polite society" to always respond "Fine!" to that question? Man, were people taken aback! Our hearts are with you, and we're weeping with you, dear.

Laurie,

Much love from the boys and me...

My best friend just lost one of her babies this past weekend, and there really are no words, except "I'm so sorry."

We are all holding our furry babies a little closer this week (and they all find it equally annoying!). We hold them so much closer in our hearts than they would ever let us hold their little bodies in real life...so gentle we are with the little kitty toes, but how fierce the feelings behind all of our tender loving care. Steel Magnolias, indeed.

Those little angels are precious--even if it 5:00AM and they have decided that you have had quite enough sleep, but mostly when it is late at night, and they are there, giving you their whole heart when things are tough in your life. I can't count the number of times my Jackie has given me comfort, just with a knowing, understanding look that he gives me at a moment when I was feeling truly awful. You know its love. Pure and true.

Our hearts are with you in this time of loss. Go ahead and let it out--you need to.

Laurie - I have never commented on your Blog before, but I have to let you know that I am so sorry to hear about Roy! Our cats are very special, and when one leaves us it is so hard! We lost our cat, Penny, many years ago and I still miss her. Roy was so lucky that you were his person!

You have just lost a wonderful, loving, amazing, companion and friend and trust me, it's perfectly normal that you should grieve his passing-- who cares if he's not two-legged and furless? I'm a vet and I put people's best friends and loved ones to sleep every day. I always thought that over time it would get easier but it really hasn't. But I also take comfort in the fact that I could make their baby's passing peaceful and painless, and that they were able to be there with them and hold them like you were there for Roy.

Your post made me tear up, as I read it my own old man is staring at me from across the kitchen, waiting for his bedtime snack. He's seventeen and I've had him since before I could drive. He's lasted through countless boyfriends, one failed engagement and he is the love of my life as well. Your post reminded me that I probably don't have a whole lot of time left with him, but that I'm so glad that I do, and I hope it's as good as the time you had with Roy.

I grieve with you for your loss, but know that you made Roy very, very, very happy and and he loved you with all his heart (and he knew you loved him, too.) Trust me. I'm a professional. ;)

hi laurie!
i am a longtime lurker. i just wanted to say i am sorry to hear about Mr. Roy. and tell you that you inspired me to learn how to knit! (i crochet) hugs to you right now, and forever when you need them! V

My beloved rabbit Frida died last October at age 11 (really really old for a rabbit). I whispered sweet nothings to her as she was dying, but as soon as she was gone, I wailed. I couldn't stop crying for hours. I felt completely shattered. For weeks after that I started crying at completely random times.

Eventually though I was able to remember her and not have thoughts of her death but of her life. It just took a while. Having her leave my life was traumatic, like losing a part of myself. After a while it didn't feel so much like a gaping wound, but just like an old injury that doesn't bother me most of the time. Just sometimes, like now. I identify with your pain so much because I remember what that felt like. It opens the wound again. I really miss her. She was such a sweet girl.

It will get better though. Really. In the mean time, do whatever you need to do to take care of yourself.

In April i went to get my kitties revaccinated and Chloe (my roy) got sick fromthem. i KNEW something was going to happen and almost slapped the needle out of his hand before he could stick her. but i didnt and she got very sick. i made 3485738457 calls and trips to the vet within 2 hours b/c of it. i heard the vet techs talking about my hysterics and the vet returned and told me chloe would be fine and told me a totally unrelated story about how cat valium and ppl valium were the same thing. coincidentally, the front desk person told me the same thing when i went to pay. fortunately i was too busy sobbing and blowing snot bubbles to be offended.

i'll bake a tuna casserole in honor of roy, even though he's probably too busy hanging out with kitty carlisle and sharpening his claws on god's throne to notice.

Oh Laurie. I am so sorry. You made Roy's life as wonderful as he made yours. Many hugs (and casseroles and wines) for you.

- Long time reader, 1st time commenter

Ok, I will try again to send this message- I'm trying to send a photo in a message and I'm ready to snap the head off of a chocolate bunny (if I had one of course).. anyway, I'll try again.. (of course.. I had a wonderful witty message full of humor with just the right mix of care and concern and ah.. 'heck'.. forget it.. here's the gist of the previous 'lost in cyberspace' message... in its condensed form.

I just wanted to share a photo of something that I found so humorous.. that when I saw it I laughed out loud- even though I was in a Korean Taxi w/ a taxi driver, who didn't speak English, as I was being driven back from one of my many doctor appointments after I got out of the hospital from my bad case of pneumonia..

Anyway, in Asia- there is something that the Americans have dubbed: ENGRISH.. it's basically a humorous and often doesn't make sense translation into English by a non-native English speaking person. Sometimes you laugh.. and sometimes you just scratch your head trying to 'figure out' what they meant. You'll see the really funny ones on t-shirts or sometimes on notepads..

You know the ones you've seen.. beautiful serene photos on the front-- w/ some wise, mellow, peaceful prose written on the front??? Well, sometimes the ENGRISH transalations are quite funny and I often send these to my friends.

So, here you go.. some photos of the street that I live on. It's a very, very nice area of Seoul.. (read: rent is very, very, very expensive)
and this is a new business that just recently opened. I know that they just used the wrong adjective.. maybe they meant the word: Unique?

Anyway, the photos might be in the wrong order? *Actually, now that I think about it- they were taken in Korea.. and they do read from RIGHT TO LEFT so.. there you go.. have a true Asian experience.. look at the photos LEFT TO RIGHT..

Photo 1- shows my street.. some shops w/ none of the business names in English

Photo 2- Same street- some names in English- most aren't.

Photo 3.. is the new business... I love it.. and apparently they also deliver.. so, a person can have some ODD WATER DELIVERED RIGHT TO THEIR DOOR!
http://s126.photobucket.com/albums/p120/iwouldratherbeknitting/outandaboutinseoul/

*and I'm sorry if I didn't make the photos appear correctly. Sigh.. if they don't work- email me and I'll email them to you. I DO know how to email photos! :D

In my family we have a few dearly departed felines that will forever occupy huge places in all our hearts, and I don't think a day goes by we don't recall a story of them. Roy will bring a smile to your face each and every day ongoing.

I meant: LOOK AT THE PHOTOS RIGHT TO LEFT..

*old habits are hard to die.. I've had too many years of reading/looking at things from LEFT TO RIGHT.. hopefully, you know what I was trying to say! Sorry everybody.

Here's the delivery sign.. that I forgot before

So, if you ever have a hankering for some ODD WATER.. just let me know!

http://s126.photobucket.com/albums/p120/iwouldratherbeknitting/?action=view¤t=korea006.jpg

You make me laugh, Laurie, and everyone needs that! I was raised by southerners but have always been a New Englander myself, and there are just some ways I'm a little bit different because of it. I am always out of place at a wake or a funeral because I try to find whatever humor I can. New Englanders are pretty stoic about death, so its not always appreciated. Thanks for making what I assumed was straight weirdness into something I can understand and appreciate.

I just wanted to second the Cynthia Rylant book, it is so special and you will certainly need even more Kleenex.
After having such a good cry for the 2nd day in a row I might have to fix some green bean casserole to get my stamina back. Thank you for sharing your love of Roy and his furry compatriots with us.
Birgitta

Don't feel bad about the brain fog. I've been crying over Roy, and I never even met him. I've been giving the feline-types in my household extra affection, glad they're still around to trip over.

So sorry for your loss. I am sure Roy know how loved he was.

When my daddy died, there was a young sheriff's deputy that had to stay with us till the coroner came and got daddy out of the yard where he was mowing the lawn. The young man had these HUGE shoes on. I mean HUGE!!! Every single one of us got the giggles over his shoes that day and that helped us through the day. That and my sister, telling someone on the phone who asked if it was an accident, "well, I don't think he died on purpose!" Yes, it is a Southern thing.

I lost my parakeet last November. He was my soul mate. I still weep for him. And I weep for my first soul mate parakeet, who died over 20 years ago. There is no time limit on this kind of grief.

I'm reminded of the song, "Mr Bojangles"... the lyrics go:

"He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs throughout the south
He spoke through tears of 15 years how his dog and him traveled about
The dog up and died, he up and died
And after 20 years he still grieves "

It will get better. But you will never stop missing Roy. Thanks for the recipe.

It's not just Southern--finding something, like humor, to break the tension helps release grief, at least for me. And I'm mostly New England-ish. (And trust me, I've had a lot of chances to test this over the last couple of years.) *hug*

I cried when I read about Roy the other day. I can only imagine how bereft you must feel. I follow my dog around and cry when I think about the day she won't be here. I hope the pain lessens soon and the laughs arrive sooner. XO

I know exactly, exactly, exactly how you feel. I miss my baby girl Gracie (black lab)like that, she was my baby girl.

I do have a funny funeral story, but maybe it's just me...my MIL was not a nice person. She was bitter, nasty, racist, selfish, childish, rude, snobbish, and crude. And that was on her good days! At her funeral the priest made this pronouncement,"...and C---, never an unkind word for anyone..."
My head snapped up in utter disbelief, my SIL next to me started shaking violently, but silently, with laughter. Even my husband, her son who loved her, said that he was flabbergasted, and that the other pallbearers(all family) seemed to be similarly afflicted. I often wonder if that priest was puzzled by the reaction, discreet as it was!

I never got to meet Roy, but because of your wonderul writing, I fell in love with him too. Take care.

Oh, hon! I have a butternut squash casserole recipe that calls for a full stick of margerine. Or a seriously cheesey broccoli and cheese casserole that calls for an entire JAR of that cheesy stuff of which I can not now recall the name. Let me know if you would like them.

In times of sickness or death, Southern ladies do two things. Cook and clean. Now, I know I am not a lady because cleaning in a time of stress and sorrow isnt happening, but I do cook. A LOT. Although I swear to the almighty Lord that in the event that Rozz goes, I will be put in the rubber room with the funny white jacket.

I have left things in odd places. Last week for instance I left me keys in my front door. All night. And half the next day because I hadn't left yet that day.

And my cats hate me right now because I took them to the vet yesterday. They are still mad. *sigh*

*hugs*

Oh, hon! I have a butternut squash casserole recipe that calls for a full stick of margerine. Or a seriously cheesey broccoli and cheese casserole that calls for an entire JAR of that cheesy stuff of which I can not now recall the name. Let me know if you would like them.

In times of sickness or death, Southern ladies do two things. Cook and clean. Now, I know I am not a lady because cleaning in a time of stress and sorrow isnt happening, but I do cook. A LOT. Although I swear to the almighty Lord that in the event that Rozz goes, I will be put in the rubber room with the funny white jacket.

I have left things in odd places. Last week for instance I left me keys in my front door. All night. And half the next day because I hadn't left yet that day.

And my cats hate me right now because I took them to the vet yesterday. They are still mad. *sigh*

*hugs*

Oh honey. I understand. I had more than one person tell me I was more upset over the death of my Ribbon (who was 18 and had to be put down 3 years ago) than my mom who passed 10 years ago.

Believe me, I know channeling.

Make sure you use ink that is non-toxic and easy to get off the other cats paws. ;)

I wanted to share KeeKee 'villa cat' extradaire!
Why is he a villa cat you might ask? Well, he came with the house that I rented in Italy- you see it was already his house. He was a 'sort of tamed' outside wild cat. The former renters told me that he came by every so often and they had called him "Bruce" but, that didn't fit him and besides "BRUCE" was the name of a guy that I had known who was a 'womanizer'.. and I surely didn't want to be reminded of that BRUCE!

So, I moved in- got unpacked- bought dry catfood to put out for the cat and made sure his water bowl was full of fresh clean water daily. He quickly learned that I had to leave before the sun came up and would be there waiting for his food.

He would let me pet him while he was eating- and even seemed to want me to hang around while he had his meals out under the wisteria arbor. However, since he had not grown up being petted and loved by humans he would not allow you to pick him up- nor would he let you hold him in your lap. I tried one time and I knew not to try that again! He wanted nothing to do with it. No cuddles for or from this cat. He had his routine which was 'eat' and go travel around the small mountain with his 'wild kitty friends' and come home to eat again.

I named KEE KEE.. because, since he was Italian-- he didn't understand 'English' and he meowed and come running to me when I called: KEE KEE So, it stuck as his name.

He came home injured a couple of times from 'fights' with the much meaner tom cat gangs that were about.. his nature was too sweet and mellow to be a threat to them and he just wasn't in their league 'mean-wise'.. so, he let me doctor him for his injuries. He also got really sick and got pneumonia less than a week after I moved in. I had to learn how to give him shots- I wasn't very successful- and the vet (who made house calls and spoke excellent English) finally gave me some pills that I crushed and hid in his food. He would sleep, under my balcony steps, facing the ocean, with the cold, damp, winter winds blowing in his face. I put a box with a soft sweater in it for him. However, he was too 'macho' and would have none of it. He would sleep by the box- but, wouldn't get in it.

So, I got some of the big boxes from my household goods delivery and taped/tied them to the stairwell under my balcony to block the wind off of him. Yes, it looked like a homeless shelter- but, it worked.

He was a great cat. He'd follow me around (if he was home) the orange and lemon tree groves on the property, and tolerated a few photos. In the spring, he suddenly stopped coming home for days at a time. I realized that it was 'catting' season.. and that as soon as he was coming home again on a regular basis- I was going to get the 'operation'... for him. *At the time I didn't have a car to try to capture him and take him to the vet in the next town.

It was now late April and I had not seen him for about 10 days. I was sitting out on the front porch (ok, it was 2 steps in front of the house.. but, I'm southern gal even if I am living in Italy) reading and suddenly he comes running down the steps to garden entrance to my house straight to me!

And, he looked up at me and the most amazing thing happened. This cat who did not want anyone to pick him up and who would NOT sit in anyone's lap.. crawled up in my lap on his own and started purring. I stayed very still not wanting him to suddenly realize what he was doing. He stayed there for over 20 minutes- giving me love and thanking me for taking care of him through his injuries, illnesses, and giving him food.

It was the last time that I saw him alive. I know he wasn't a pet in the sense since he didn't live in my house with me and certainly lived life on his own terms, but, he was my Italian villa cat and we both benefited when I moved into the villa with an ocean view and a cat 'inapppropriately' named Bruce.

Here he is the cat that owned the Italian villa...
http://s126.photobucket.com/albums/p120/iwouldratherbeknitting/keekee/

hugs love...lots and lots of hugs to you...

When my Grandma Okie died, the family was sitting in the little family room at the funeral, waiting for the service to start, when my Uncle Kim brought up the conversation every one of us had had with Grandma at least once every six months. She very calmly informed each of us that if we allowed her to be buried wearing pantyhose she would come back and haunt us. The whole family was in hysterics laughing about this when the funeral home guy came to escort us into the service. Grandma Okie was a fearsome enough prospect as a ghost that we made the guy promise to check that she was pantyhose-less before they put her in the ground. Guests lagging behind and the family getting into cars heading to the graveside were treated to a glimpse of a trio of funeral home employees peering into the casket, as if they had LOST HER, before loading the thing into the back of the hearse.
Laughter is powerful medicine for the Southerners.

Laurie, so much has been said, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I love my cat insanely. I have lost other cats and understand how you feel.
Hang in there. PS - I think a lot of us here in LA are closet green bean casserole lovers.

Even when we are grieving, there´s still laughter waiting in every corner of our life...
My beloved old man cat Henry died two weeks ago, suffering from long time kidney disease. I knew that he was ill, and so he was allowed to sleep in the fruit bowl, or fall asleep on my hand while I used my computer mouse. He drank from the faucet of the bath tub and was all bossy and senior to the red pack of three other furry babies living here. And when I came back from the vet´s, with the now empty cat basket, howling with pain and grief, I too hugged and kissed and spoiled the threesome left behind... And now they try to compensate. Yesterday I found Eddie trying to curl up to fit into the fruit bowl, and two minutes ago I had to free my hand, for Paulie was snoring on it, covering half of my desk. It would have been nice to have my hand warmed by some furry gentleman again, but there is a slight difference between my little old Henry (about 3 lbs of weight in the end) and Fat Paul, 16 lbs. I swear he was kind of relieved when I told him better to sleep on The Cat´s Recliner, for his FatCatMajesty smiled and jumped off the desk. Yes, they smile, and they are patient with my sobbing and hugging and kissing.
And I´m sure grief burns calories, esp. those contained in any kind of casseroles.

You need a grilled cheese sandwich fried in butter. Yep, that'll do the trick, paired with a lovely Pinot Grigio. Seriously, go for all the comfort you can stand. You have to just work your way through it, a step at a time. I posted you about my horse yesterday and my husband, who thought he was doing the best thing for Christmas(and he was-I just couldn't handle it only 2 and a half months into it)gave me a whole collection of enlarged shots of my horse as a baby on through to us qualifying for Regionals when he was 21 years old. I became basically hysterical, which was not great given that I had a 9 month old baby and a 2 year old boy. Those boys get it though-they were just hugging our old cat Runty who came home today from the vet after having his thyroid, etc checked. He is down to one eye and they just put him up on the dinner table to eat with us. T was purring away and we told him he has to live forever. SO-here's the boys' joke for you-Why wouldn't the skeleton cross the road? Because he didn't have the guts. Hang in there-

I was so sorry to hear about Roy. It's always been evident how much you cared for him, and him for you. Our dogs bring a smile to my face every morning and make me happier than I ever thought pets could. I dread the thought of my boys passing on, and you have my deepest sympathy.

I am blown away because there are people on about 6 continents sharing their tears and hoping to help Laurie feel just a bit less alone in her grief.

I cry anew, for I feel love. I feel that no matter where we are, we are one in our love of our furkids.

We are desperate in our love of Laurie.

Do you feel it?

Can you feel our arms and our prayers surrounding you?

One of our own is hurting, and we are circling our wagons.

You are loved.
.

Anyone who doesn't understand your grief has never really loved or been loved by a cat. Their loss and shortcoming, not yours.

When my Lucy died last year, I cried solidly for three whole days. It was a Saturday just before a Bank Holiday and it was lucky I didn't have to go to work because I would have been incapable of sensible thought.

Thinking of you.

I'm really sorry to hear that about Roy, he was an amazing friend. I've cried those hiccupy tears myself and so I feel for you. Bring on the wine.

I'm so sorry about your loss. You are not crazy. I went through that kind of grief when I was forced to have my little Pekingese, Kibbles, put to sleep 10 yrs. ago. I felt tremendous guilt on top of the grief, and nobody understood. She had been my constant companion for almost 16 years. We have no children, so it literally was like losing a child to me. I haven't been able to get another dog, and I still miss her. I heard her for a long time in the house afterwards. I have now been adopted by some stray cats. Allow yourself to grieve. Roy was family. I love your blog and your writing. Praying for you in your pain and grief.

Love is love. When the first of my cats died I came home from work and lay on the couch and cried for weeks. Eventually, of course, I stopped crying and got on with life -- but thank goodness I didn't have anyone telling me it was only a cat, get over it. This is not the cat I wrote about the other day. I have had three beloved cats die on me -- a barrel of laughs, eh? But I guess it's the price you pay for loving short-lived creatures. Then I got some giant tortoises, who will outlive me. I had them for 13 years but believe me, it's not the same.

Yummy! I haven't had green beans with those onions in years.

I'm so very sorry about Roy. I know how devastating it is, especially with a cat who has supported you in rougher than usual times. Hang in there.

Love and good thoughts to you and the kitties.

I had to have one of my cats put to sleep a few years ago. She was old and sick and in pain and I knew it was the best thing for her but I still felt like crap. As we sat in the waiting room she was purring and rubbing herself up against myself and I felt like a murderer. Then, I had to go home and explain to my 2 year old why I hadn't brought the cat home. I'm crying now just thinking about it. Feel as bad as you like for as long as you like. You will know when it is time for you to feel better. I will be thinking good thoughts for you and your remaining kitties.

I am southern and part Irish... so believe you me when I say I endeavored to find something funny for you to laugh at....
One day a first grade teacher was reading the story of Chicken Little to her class. She came to the part where Chicken Little warns the Farmer. She read "...and Chicken Little went up to the Farmer and said 'The Sky is falling!" Then the teacher asked her students, "And what do you think the Farmer said?"
One little girl raised her hand and said, "I think he said... 'HOLY SHIT! A talking chicken!"

And to think I have just been following the recipe on the onion can this whole time. Wow- your recipe sounds great!!!and I NEVER follow recipes. My grandmother died about a month before Christmas in 01, and my grandfather had come over to our house for Christmas, and mom had gotten him a big basket full of little goodies like you give old people- he broke down, saying he didn't expect all that- so out of my mouth pops "why, have you been naughty?" -and the whole family cracked up as I flushed beet red. Didn't mean to say it but so glad I did! humor is great! here's another inappropriate hug...

Sweetie, don't worry about crying long and loud and at unexpected times. You just lost a beloved family member and it's perfectly natural.

From 5 to 3 years ago, I lost 2 horses, 2 dogs and 4 cats. You'ld think I'd learn not to have all of my animals get really old at the same time. When my Aussie, Reilly, died 3 years ago we took our remaining dog, Clancy the corgie, with us to the emergency room and he was there with us and his buddy for comfort. Now, Reilly had a ball with little nubbles all over it that he loved to chase for hours. Clancy hated that ball, it was too big for his mouth and the nubbles bothered him, but while I was at my worst, Clancy brought me Reilly's ball, dropped it at my feet, and would chase it as long as I would throw it. As time went on and the worst of my crying mostly passed, he stopped bringing me Reilly's ball and has never touched it again. Don't tell me that they don't know and understand!

Clancy has an inoperable brain tumor. We did radiation therapy with him and chemotherapy and it bought us more time with him but not a cure. He also developed degenerative myelopathy which, in the last year, has taken away the use of his hind legs. He has a doggy wheelchair so that he could continue taking short walks but I carry him everywhere else. We've had over 4 wonderful years with him since his diagnosis (more than any of his vets expected and he's made it to 14 1/2 years old so far) but he's showing signs of running out of time now. So you cry as long and as hard as you need to (I will) and don't let anyone tell you that Roy was "just an animal". They are part of our lives, part of our hearts and the best part of who we are. People who don't love their furry friends are the ones who are "stupid", the ones who are missing out. But no matter how much we suffer when we lose our furry best friends, in the long run it's worth the pain to have had them in our lives.

It's healing to tell funny stories and laugh in times of grief. My family was Irish, by way of Texas, before they came to California, we know how to throw a wake!

Again - writing first, reading later. In case you (or any of us) doubted how much you touch us all, how much we all love you - there were over 1,200 comments yesterday.

I knew you for classy - you use those french-fried onions on your green bean hot dish. We Minnesotans consider that a mark of Genuine Class and Elegance. (Yes, yes, I know I'm a Wisconsinoid now; I'm transplanted.)

By the way - all of our kitties are knowing and sending love to you too - Evangeline, usually quite the Aloof, hasn't left my side. As you raced back to get your purse (I knew it would be there), Roy was peering down and shaking his head.... You *will* be aware of his comforting self, Laurie. Happy as I am with Evangeline and Lilliane, my treasured gifts of Bast -- I still catch Othello out of the corner of my eye, sitting on his wide black bum and washing a paw.

}rejoining hands with us all who are surrounding you with warm affection {

I will make your casserole in honor of Roy this weekend. My heart goes out to you.

Totally, totally understandable regarding the misplacement of the handbag AND the green bean casserole. You know the grief will lessen, just like you know laughter is good for pain.

Back in the days of living in Iowa (a temporary situation for, oh, 18 years of the most-productive-but-lost years of my 20s and 30s), we had one of those wicked thunderstorms that I enjoyed, but nay did the dogs of the county. So after the storm, spouse and I are driving down the main drag (hey, two lanes is all you get in these 'cities') and saw a dog running around like crazy. Well, dog lovers that we are, we stopped and called the dog over. Very friendly and glad for company. Spouse sat on the driveway of a Hardee's with the dog while I drove home to get a larger vehicle for the 3 of us. Dog spent the night and was well-fed, etc. Dog didn't seem to mind his/her temporary quarters at all! But we couldn't keep Dog and didn't know where Dog belonged. Next day I spent hours and hours driving Dog around and asking everybody we encounterd, "Do you know this Dog?" Nope. Next big idea was to start calling vets' offices and describing Dog. Lo and behold, one of the office staff thought they knew Dog, so off we go. Sure enough, they do know Dog! They also knew Dog was behind in necessary vaccinations.

Guess who showed up to claim Dog? None other than the Sheriff of the county!! Guess who held Dog ransom till the necessary vaccinations were administerd? None other than this brave and defiant woman - can you imagine holding the Sheriff's dog hostage??

What we do for the love of animals is totally normal, no matter what 'they' say! You do what you need to, Laurie, till you feel better.

When humans turn out to be twits, pets are always there. Roy loved you unconditionally and that is a powerful thing. I think I would be a mess too. I've left huge bags all over the place and I don't have the excuse of grief so don't feel foolish it happens.

Psst, that tie sounds like a Ducks Unlimited thing. I bet he got it at one of their auctions and paid a fortune for it!

Oh yeah. Here is another little story. Not funny or to cheer you up or anything, but to help you know that you are not crazy for grieving over Roy! First of all, I have been fortunate enough not to lose a pet in a long time. But I have thought I might be crazy -- yet I bet I will not be the only one here, in fact I think I have read in the comments already that someone else had this experience -- because I have occasonally cried for as much as five minutes just over the *idea* that my cats will leave me someday. Over what it would be like to lose one of them. This is not when they're sick or anything, you understand -- just something made me think of it and off I went. Then I had to go sit in the comfy chair with cats on me for a while.

Anyway, I didn't know how much I could miss them until I moved. You know, I don't miss them that much on vacation. Vacation is different, you're in different places, doing different things from your normal routine. When I moved (800 miles) two years ago, I made two trips. Trip one, I left the cats behind, met the movers at the new place and got that unloaded and unpacked a very few, very basic things. The next day I started putting together new IKEA furniture that I'd bought and had the movers bring. (I <3 IKEA!! No IKEA within hundreds of miles of where I live now.) As usual I sat on a footstool with pieces spread around and the small parts dumped out on the floor next to me. And I couldn't do it very well. It just didn't feel right... because there *should* be a cat either getting in the way, or trying to play with the parts, or just assuming that if I put my hand near the floor it couldn't be to pick something up, it *must* be that I wanted to pet a cat. Not only that, but I discovered that the rhythms of my walking are cat-adapted. I would keep pausing automatically because there was probably a cat about to get up in my feet like they do. Except there was no cat there. I hadn't realized I was doing it so automatically.

That was when I realized, first, that I could even miss them being mildly annoying, and more importantly, that most of my stuff might be here, but the new place was NOT HOME until I brought the cats. I had planned to spend a few more days getting unpacked before I went back to get the cats and make trip #2, but instead I think I made my plane reservation that morning and flew back that afternoon. I got my keys August 1st, but I use August 9th as the day my Kansas residency began, because that's when the cats got here.

Pets, they are woven into our lives, and when Atropos cuts one of their threads, of course the weave is disrupted and things won't be right for a while. Still sucks, of course, and I'm sorry.

Oh yeah, I also recommend reading The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint Exupery. It will make you cry but in a good way, I think.

Nothing like a good bawling cry at your work desk! Right about now I am throwing roses to the cubicle gods for erecting such great walls so that no one can see the mess I have become reading the last 2 posts!

Heres to good jokes at sad times!!!

I hope your days get a little brighter with each new morning......

Laurie,

I didn't post for the past few days, mainly because I couldn't read what I was writing through the big fat tears every time I went by your blog. As a fellow animal lover, I'm very sorry for your loss. I've had my Patches (calico rescue) since she was a kitten and I was in the fifth grade. I'm now 26 and Patches is still plugging along, though she's lost all her teeth on the way. After reading your post, I hugged her for a solid half hour until she grouched enough that I'd put her down.

I understand. Please accept my condolences for your loss, and my deepest hope that the pain eventually will recede and you can find peace in the love that you and Roy shared.

I'm the same way with my beasties when one dies. And the remaining ones start ducking when I pass them, as I tend to pick them up and hug them until their eyes pop.

Hold a wake for Roy. Celebrate everything he was. *HHUGS* Bought the forgetting purse, the security guard was asking if it was his style / color. :)

I'm so sorry! Some of the animals we get to spend part of this life with are more than special-and we get to keep them in our hearts forever.

That's what friends are for...

Blessings!

Girl,you are not crazy for leaving your purse behind. I have done that before, and with less tragedy going on in my life at the time. YOur mind is just really overwhelmed with your grief and everything else going on in your life right now. Be kind to yourself!

I'm a first time poster and your post about Roy touched me so I had to write. I could feel the love you had for him, and got tears in my eyes at work. It reminds me of my kitty Cricket, my little Cricky... we lost her at age 6, and I still miss her 11 years later.

Hang in there, and know that it gets easier. Hugs....

I'm a first time poster and your post about Roy touched me so I had to write. I could feel the love you had for him, and got tears in my eyes at work. It reminds me of my kitty Cricket, my little Cricky... we lost her at age 6, and I still miss her 11 years later.

Hang in there, and know that it gets easier. Hugs....

Aw, sweet pea. I'm so sorry about Roy. You have every right to leave your personal belongings behind as a show of grief. It's better that knocking everything off the shelf in the pickle and olive aisle.

I totally understand your need to find something to laugh about, it's what gets you through. If there's nothing left to laugh about, what is there?

I always remind myself that the cats have a shelf life and will expire some day, but it sure doesn't make it any easier. But I know that we're bona fide cat people and that it's our lot to have them. We sort of have a revolving door policy and I know that when out time is up with one of the cats, it means that we have room for a new face and can give another homeless kitty a good life. I don't mean to say that you should replace Roy, but sister, you're a cat lady and loving him was your job. And I do believe Mr. Roy was a satisfied customer.

Now go leave your underpants in a public laundromat.

Don't be too hard on yourself. There is no correct way to feel or act. You sound perfectly normal too me. We lost our boy of 18 years last July 30. There are days where we feel like we've "gotten over it" and days where it might as well have been yesterday - yes the ugly cry. Such is life. It just shows how much we loved them and they loved us. Roy is still with you and all of you have been blessed to have shared your lives. I know we have been with our boy and are trying to continue it with the two new babies that we have. Ok that sounds odd but for us the kittens are family members.

I just wanted to say that I *just* took the green bean casserole out of the oven and *just* had my first bite and it is so. good. Crazy good. Thanks for sharing the recipe :D

Ya know, I've never been all that clear on what your religious/spiritual beliefs are, and maybe you don't want us to know and that's okay, cuz I believe in him. So, what I know for a fact is that if God brings you to it, he will bring you through it. The other piece of that is the only way around grief is through it. You and your handbag are right where you are supposed to be; missing and grieving for a very special friend who helped get you through a tough time....and you're not alone.

I don't know if you will get all the way down here to my comment, but I'll say my bit anyway. I am so sorry about your Roy. I have been reading your blog for a few months, and I feel a connection to you. I am getting divorced and am so scared about almost everything. I got a cat after the separation. I have lots of reasons for bringing this wonderful animal home with me. I have always wanted a cat, but couldn't (either because my dad hated them, apartment wouldn't allow them, or evi-soon-to-be-ex husband was allergic to them). He is the most loving creature, and I really need him more than he needs me right now. Your loss of Roy reminds me not to take Alex for granted. Thank you for sharing his story with us.

Grief will make you do funny things. I also live in the San Fernando Valley, and went through a divorce in my mid-thirties. During that time, I left my lights on in my car and ran out the battery twice. Locked my keys and purse and all in the car once. Ran out of gas. And, once I finally got to the gas station, drove off with the gas nozzle still stuck in my car, ripping the hose out of the pump. All within the same 72 hours.

I considered myself lucky when my baby Lab (okay, she was 13, but still my baby) went into convulsions and had to be put down over Thanksgiving weekend, because it was a holiday so there was no reason for me to get off the floor for four days straight.

Hugs and more hugs...

Your cats miss him too, I'm sure. When my Smokey died in February, my little calico Krista cried every night for a week (and they didn't even seem all that lovey-dovey).

Laurie,
Thanks so much for sharing. & In general for being you period! Your blog brightens my days. I am 36 divorced single and was owned by three cats. I also just happen to live right by you. about 6 weeks ago I had a baby. I am a single mom by choice. The week before he was born my best buddy cat (who could be Sobakawa's twin) (Schmootzy was her name) became very sick & I had to put her to sleep. I have been so heartbroken and crying everyday since shes been gone. She wads 10 years old. I too have been running around after my two other boy cats telling them they better never get sick like she did. They probably think Im nuts. Anyways, your in my thoughts. I tell everyone about your blog & now I was able to tell them you lost Roy too & Im not so crazy for running around after my 2 stooges telling them not to dare sneeze anywhere near me.... Much love to you & your three babies. Jenny & Cooper

I'm so sorry to hear about Roy. I have to agree with everyone here when they say you're normal, even if they did hear you in South Dakota.

When my cat Tashi (meaning "Good Luck," which was cleary not her name since she died young) was nearing the end, I got a call at work from the vet's office telling me I should get there soon if I wanted to say goodbye. I dropped what I was doing and hauled ass out the door. I wasn't in time, but the vet took me to that private room and let me hold her and say my goodbyes. I sobbed into her fur while my fiance sat beside me.

When we got back to my place, there were two Corornas sitting on the front stoop, a present left to me from a fellow cat lover and friend.

And another story:
My husband and I were cat-sitting for his parents were told not to be too concerned if Tuck up and died while they were gone. Tuck was old and had gone through a lot, what with being run over by his sister's boyfriend, nearly mauled by some animal with big teeth, having a big boil-like thing on his back and now having to have pills twice a day.

We also had a cat, Grendel, and we kept the two apart because Grendel has territory issues and would attack anything that was deemed too close -- including small, cute kittens.

One night after dinner, Grendel went downstairs and let out a loud moan. He could move his lower extremities and we rushed him to the same vet I mentioned above. Sadly, we had to say goodbye to him that night. It was a shock and we tried the humor thing with it, too, saying that was the last time we were ever going to that vet and that we expected this sort of behavior from Tuck.

That night, I opened the door to Tuck's room so he could wander about. As I lay crying off and on in bed, I felt something jump on the bed. It was Tuck. He came up to my head and curled up for the night. This from a cat who doesn't like to be picked up or touched. It was the only night he did that.

So I believe that comfort comes from our human friends as well as our furry ones, who sometimes know exactly what we need more than anyone else.

::: leaving a Cororna and lime at your virtual doorstep :::

you'll always have your memories of Roy and how you saved him and loved him and don't think Roy didn't know he'd finally found a great lady to hang around with....

Hey Laurie, I am currently going through the same thing. One of my pets unexpectedly died last night. It's always difficult when someone you love leaves you. I'm so sorry for your loss.

The night after I got "the call" that my dad had passed away, I put a pot of water on the stove to make some sweet tea (this southern gal makes her tea via 2-quart sauce pan, not a kettle) - I'd put it on while I packed things up to head home to my family. The next thing I know, my smoke alarm is going off, because I totally forgot about the water and boiled it right away.

A few days later, as family and friends gathered at my mom's house with casseroles, hams, cheese trays, and banana nut bread, my father's best friend (and fellow chicken breeder) came by to pick up my dad's chicken flock. They'd made an agreement way-back-when to take care of things quickly in the best interest of the wife left behind. That evening, after playing in the yard, all of the grandkids came in, laughing and yelling that there was still a chicken in the chicken house. Most adults just shuffled the kids aside so as not to "disturb" the grieving family. One of my siblings decided to see what was up, and lo-and-behold there was one lone hen, just kind of wondering where everyone else went. It was a sweet, emotional laugh that we all shared, and Miss Chicken went on to spend her days in luxury on my sister's farm.

Sending you virtual casseroles, fried okra, salty boiled peanuts, and lots of wine...

I have to de-lurk for Roy. I logged on the other night expecting another funny post and found instead your memorial for Roy. I bawled my eyes out; been there. In fact, I'm just now coming up on the one year anniversary of KC's passing and you know...these cats are just furry children to many of us and I don't know why some people think you can get over the grief of losing a cat (or a dog) faster than you do over losing a person. Roy was a member of your family--it is ok to grieve...to scream, to cry, to sit numbly, to wait for the pain to pass, to just....cope for awhile. It does get a bit easier, but it takes time. Just like when any other member of your family dies.

My heart is with you and the rest of your fur children.

Hopefully you'll have your digital camera along at the next family funeral, and will be able to share the picturesque tie(s) with all of us.

do you have a chicken and biscuits recipe?

A couple years ago my dog, Twiggy, died...literally 5 minutes after I got home from work. Like Roy, she was abused (and nearly died from the abuse) but she bounced back and had nothing but LOVE to give in return. I still cry when I think about her...and when friends lose pets, it makes me cry because I think about her again. But, I now have gained 4 cats since her passing...and each one is a beautiful soul too. Roy passed away but his memory will always live on...and now there is room in your home for a new lost soul trying to find his/her way in what can be a really cruel world for animals.

Big hugs to you...you are a gem and all of your cats...and us...know that. Somewhere there is a cat who needs your love desperately...and when you are ready, you'll find each other.

Oh my, as I read your story of Roy, I couldn't help but remember my Tigger. He, too, was my soulmate...loving me so unconditionally that I just couldn't believe or understand. I NEVER thought I could love another kitty again. Somehow I think he hand picked the two I have now as they are all the best parts of him (with their own personalities). It again proves that he loved me unconditionally, by allowing and helping me love others. Best of wishes to you in this time....I sympathize and offer hope!

My doggy is in the hospital right now. He is going to die of kidney failure soon. I don't have much of my own hair left.
I am glad that I am not the only crazy animal person. I didn't know that I would feel so wretched, losing my baby Murph.

oooo...I love me some green bean casserole, Thanks.

before I begin my little story to hopefully make you smile, some vital info for the story to make sense.

My dad is 9 of 10 kids. many of his siblings marries many of the siblings of another family in town. (so there's a lot of brother from family a married sister of family b kind of thing.

Anyway, this means if you can truly navigate our family tree, I think you get some sort of degree.

When grandad passed, we had quite a ot of people for the wake. Mt step mom, who was truly trying to understand how everyone was related to everyone, and being rather arrogant to claim she knew, actually introduced my cousin to his own father. As in, "Oh Richard, I don't know if you have met this relative of ours. Richard, meet Teddy."

To which, Richard, took Teddy's hand, and said "We've met. Hi, Dad, how ya doing."

My step mom unknowingly helped us all get through that night.

Hi Laurie - I've been "lurking" for a while but had to write in response to this post. I'm literally sitting here in tears as I look at my 18+ year old boy named Chester who we took in as a stray with a broken leg and the most personality of any cat I have ever met. My heart is there with you. Laura

Every summer growing up I spent a month with Nanny on the farm. She'd be up at dawn every day, listening to the Baptist Hour in the kitchen to see if we needed to take something to the funeral parlor in town. It was the only time I saw her dress up and wear makeup; she loved red lipstick.

When she died, the funeral procession was so long people had to walk over a mile to get to the cemetary from the farm road, and people brought enough food for the entire 20-odd family for a week. (In addition to the church ladies who hosted an entire meal after the graveside service for most of the town.) That's a southern funeral.

If I could, I'd send you a "Nanny special" chocolate cake. We need our rituals the most in times like these.

Bless your heart! I left my purse in the cart once and at least twice have left it at a restaurant. Each time I thank my lucky stars. I know that feeling.

I so love Green Bean Casserole. Born Southernin Charleston SC and grew up in Raleigh NC and am now living in Flowery Branch GA (Burb of Atl). I ALWAYS inhale Green Bean Casserole.

I am so sorry for your loss. Nothing can make up for it and really nothing can be said that will ease your pain, but know we are all sharing that pain with you.

God bless!

I just read with sadness about Roy.. I went and hugged my two elderly dogs both of whom are not allowed to get any older. A good casserole and a laugh with a friend go a long way toward feeling better.

I have some good advice. No, really.

1. Don't be hard on yourself. Being forgetful is one of the signs of grief. I lost my father recently and we will draw a veil over some of the things I have done and continue to do. You're normal, not going crazy at all.

2. Hug the rest of your kitties. Hug the stuffing out of them and do it often. Hug them even if they hate it. They will grieve Roy's passing, too. You'll help each other.

God's blessings.

Hey don't feel bad about losing your purse. After my dad died I lost 6 months (literally) so the occasional purse\key\pen abandonment isn't all that bad really. Grief can really space you out.

Hugs hugs hugs

Just as long as you don't start misplacing yarn... then we might have to stage an intervention! *wink*

Obviously you were so into remembering every detail of that tie, that you forgot the one thing you could make an awesome casserole with.
Zucchini.
I mean, come on woman, you are a Southerner. You know how we love making them casseroles with our squash.
;)

The morning after my husband walked out, I got to work on time, taught my class all the way through, got home, and fixed dinner before I even cried. The morning after my wonderful dog Gracie died, I was late for the class I was teaching, broke down twice before lunch, let my students go early, and could barely drive home through my tears. The difference is that our four-legged family imposes no expectations, demands, or ulterior motives. They just love us...

I don't know how a person can not like cream of mushroom soup in their green bean casserole, but one of my daughter's doesn't like it either - I'm going to have to try it with the cream of chicken instead. Sending more ((hugs)) which are strictly for the casserole idea ;-)

I just discovered your blog though a friend, and I cried my eyes out over the story of Roy. I really think that animals are in the most comforting presence in time of need. I recently went through a very difficult time in my own marriage, and my sweet dog cuddled me like crazy and her fur absorbed all my tears. I think your hilarous and am going to blog on you on my craft blog at www.craftynation.com/blog - would you be interested in doing an e-interview with us?

Losing our beloved pets is the pits. My heart goes out to you. Be kind to yourself and hang on to your purse and your sanity. And wrap yourself in everyone's love and in your kitties and in some comforting wool.

I Lost my 2 year old staffy last April. She ate half a box of snail bait. Not only was I devastated at the loss, but so guilty for leaving poisons within her reach .I took a week off work and have suffered the "crazy animal lover" tag since at work.My 2 cats and my other dog Zac and I all sat looking at each other... the house was sooooo quiet without her. So I promptly went and got a puppy. Not for everyone,but worked for me. Uncannily,she has many traits of Rosie's.She has an especially close bond with the cats.

I'm from Texas; born and bred. You absolutely caught the spirit of our funerals. I'd love to meet your uncle.

More hugs for your loss....

so very sorry to read of your sad, sad loss. My LH (LubbardHusband) has been handily supplying tissues as I sit here sniffing and sobbing. No idea why i am crying but obviously read the fine print in our wedding vows which stated he must pander to crazy Australian wife's emotional outbursts.

I laughed at the whole tie saga and my tears turned to ones of laughter at your question to your father.

A week with no internet access and I missed you like crazy. You add sparkle to my life.

I always take comfort in a quote someone once shared - 'Rest in the happy memories.'

many hugs, trashalou.

I am behind in my blog reading and just catching up now. I'm so very sorry about Roy. There isn't any way to prepare for letting go of a loved one, and as far as I can tell, if you're an emotional person, there isn't a graceful way to grieve either. I'm so sad for you.

(late catching up)

i'm SO SORRY, laurie.. this made me cry. my blossom died over 10 years ago and i still get teary-eyed when i see her picture.

i will miss seeing roy's adorable face.

I think God wears a John Deere hat, too.

Oh, Laurie, I wish we could make it better. I'm sending all good thoughts to you and your furry threesome.

Laurie, I am especially saddened by the passing of your dear Roy. You see, I am the fur mommy of his female twin, The Coconutski Longbody. She looks so much like Roy that even when I zipped by your blog and didn't have time to read, I would look for photos of him just so I could marvel at their tabby-pointed alikeness. Such beautiful little white tigers, they'd have made gorgeous kittens together.

As such, I felt a special bond to your little man but am still somewhat surprised by the loss I feel at his passing. Since reading your post, I have cried myself snotty several times at the thought of him being gone .

Anyway, I just wanted to write and thank you for the last couple of photos of him. He was a beauty.

My deepest condolences,

Joan McGowan-Michael

French Fries. August 4 is my little families official family holiday of French Fries. We go out an randomly affix coupons to a fast food joint (who still sells $2 gift certificate coupons) to cars, geocaches, mailed to strangers... with a little note explaining that this day is in honor of the first love of my life - my little black dog, who loved fries. We ask that they throw a fry to his ghost in honor of him... I don't know if any did last year (the first day of the official holiday) but it is a nice thought. In fact, every time we eat fries, we save a few to throw out to him... It's the little things that keep you sane.

Hang in there - it won't get any better, but the wine will kick in eventually...

You feel about Roy as I do about my cat. The bond is something not of this Earth. It is unexplainable and karmic.

Blessings to the wonderful life that you and Roy gave each other.

I'll miss Roy too-he was sooooo photogenic.