HWright
Member Since 2016
http://www.felinediabetes.com/FDMB/threads/2-6-ot-sooties-tribe-azalea-20th-birthday-today.190775/
Dear Friends,
My apologies for the dual dates of this condo: I started this condo Tuesday afternoon after Steve and I returned from bringing Azalea to our old vet both for her final arrangements and so that those there who have known and loved her for so many years could say their goodbyes. The need to rest and to feel Azalea's light came upon us all soon after. The process of putting feelings and memories to words was slow and initially exhausting. Now, after these few days of inner submersion and the return of sunlight, we are beginning to re-emerge. I apologize in advance for what’s become quite a lengthy piece from a body who could barely put two sentences together two days ago.
First, thank you Bobbie @Bobbie And Bubba both for giving Azalea, who always was one to embrace energy, your support and reiki healings during what became Azalea's final days of transition, the pulsations of which resonated for all of us, too. Thank you, too, Bobbie, for sharing in your condo on Tuesday morning that Azalea had crossed over and for the place to reply as best I could at the time and with thanks to those who shared their condolences via your condo.
Tuesday morning, as dawn broke, our sweet Azalea crossed over, at home where she wanted to be, peacefully on her own and not alone, always loved. She was in no pain and gently transitioned from this world towards the next, with her final release in the whisp of a gentle breath. Even during these past weeks and days, she was her ever indomitable Azalea determined to follow her path wherever it may lead, with her big as ever indomitability and lightness of being always guiding her and me.
Once Steve composed himself from the actuality that Azalea had passed on, he recalled her earlier years, including the times when the clowder was the very young 'uns Sootie and her sisters Guernsey and Sweetie Pie, and Azalea with her contemporaries Hoppy and Ted. In those years (and those were the years before predators became a presence in the village) they were indoor-outdoor kitties, each with individual rhythms of what indoor and outdoor meant: Hoppy stayed within the yard, often basking on the front porch or on our neighbor's stone wall (oh yes, he had also became accustomed to visiting the couple in the little rental cottage. They had a cat, Miss Kitty, whom he was quite enamoured of. He continued the practice of visiting the cottage even when the new tenant, a youngish bachelor, moved in after the couple had left because they bought a house. One time Hoppy had settled in for a nap in the bedroom closet where the bachelor and his then-girlfriend were unaware of his presence...ah, the rest is a story for another day). Ted, having been strafed one too many times by black birds that he was convinced were out to get him (they were), evolved to rarely venture into open space, much preferring the cover of the porch. Sootie and her sisters romped and played in the yard, though one or the other could be found on summer nights dancing about in the moonlight entranced by fireflies. One night I saw Sweetie Pie in a round of play with our neighborhood skunk family, romping together like best buddies in the middle of our quiet street under the light of the street lamp.
Azalea, however, was the adventuress. No sooner did she come indoors then she would return outdoors only to return with a baby vole, mouse, small garden snake, or a bird. Sometimes I could release the stunned prey, other times prayers and a fitting burial. And so on throughout the summers’ days and nights. On the nights when all but Azalea were accounted for, I would call for her and she would either come prancing back from parts unknown or take her own sweet time. If she wasn’t back by midnight, Steve would go out and call for her. She’d come to him from across lots, in what he describes to this day as her characteristic speedy high step, light and fast as can be and then she would amble cheerily along aside him up the driveway and into the house together for the night. Her lightness of step was so....Azalea... the pitter patter of her little paws up and down the stairs made a sound like “little diddle little diddle” and hence her nickname. Tuesday during the afternoon emotional haze amidst the rain and in the kind of sleep that came so soon after her morning along the path of lightness, I felt and could have sworn I heard her little pitter pat steps with the ripplings and glow of all that is Azalea.
One summer she went missing for what turned out to be three days. I searched everywhere and placed posters, contacted Animal Control, knocked on doors, asked neighbors, checked the nearby marinas morning, noon and night. One marina worker knew her but he had not seen her for some days. Ahah, at least I learned one more piece to the puzzle of her mysterious but regular rounds. I sought the aid of our AC whose best assurance was that she was in proximity, alive and not in harm's way. On the third day, as I trudged up the driveway around sunset, weary and despondent, I said to myself, "I just have to accept that she's gone and that if she is meant to return to us, she will." Then I turned around and looked to the southward horizon, in tears and with one last plea to the Universe. And then, suddenly there she was, scurrying up the street, all tippy toed and full of cheer in her gait and demeanor: “Hi there! what's the problem?" Boy, did I scoop her up and give her mighty happy hugs and snuggles! Turned out she had gotten into a neighbor's garage and they hadn't noticed until they went back in and discovered a speedy little cat zooming like a flash out the door.
Azalea and I first met during a cold harsh winter while I was working for the vet who had the orphanage that I mentioned in Sootie's tribute. One raw cold day a fellow came to the clinic with a very young friendly tabby stray whom he had been feeding; he said he had wanted to keep her, tried to bring her into his home but his wife wouldn't allow another cat. I was orphanage manager that week and took in this unnamed perky stray. She was tiny, skinny, with a slightly stunted, kinked tail and sensitive lower spine, conditions that Dr. H thought might have been the result of an earlier vehicular injury. He thought she was perhaps 6 months old. We fully vetted her, spayed and so on. She ate well and was cheerful, albeit not happy if you touched her tail or lower spine. By late winter, she was ready for adoption, but the appearance of her tail seemed to detract.
Late winter turned into early Spring. One Friday I asked her if she'd like to come home with me for the weekend and she gave me a particularly animated sparkly eyed look. Dr H ok'd her weekend furlough. On Monday, I asked if I could adopt her. He was thrilled, lol. I remember the young relief vet who overheard and commented, "Why do you want her? She's a crazy cat." She simply didn't see Azalea for who she really was.
Then came her name...when I was sure that she knew that we were her home, she began to explore around the yard. One day she was absolutely obsessed with being underneath one of the budding azalea bushes. Ahah! That’s it! Azalea! Then I realized that she had quickly found a group of nesting baby garden snakes. But Azalea her name became nonetheless. The evocation and remembrance of blossoms and Spring.
Over the years, she certainly had a fair share of challenges: the tail and spine injury that she came to us with as a young juvie and who knows what else in her early life as a stray; her unplanned three-day adventure in a neighbor's garage; an early uti and then borderline CKD for many years; corneal tear to her left eye that required the eye-lid closure surgery to help her eye to heal; an altercation or two with big bully Ted, tiny Azalea the victor though not without evidence of battle, including a nasty bite to her tail. Then there was her determined mission to seek the outdoors when we began to keep them indoors when coyotes, fisher cats and foxes began to be sighted. Azalea scratched through one screen in the upstairs porch above the mudroom; after I replaced the screen with stronger material, she scratched through one again while I was at work: I came home to find her greeting me on the path, a bit wonky, but unhurt (she did not like the resulting visit to the vet or that we replaced those screens with yet stronger Azalea-proof screens); then fast forward several years to about 3-4 years ago: her sudden and unexplained bout of silent brain events that eventually abated and the bouts of stomatitis beginning soon after; then in late 2016 the claw puncture injury to the cornea and lens in her right eye and enucleation surgery; and two months later the major dental surgery and eventual faintly fiv+ dx and later tests that contradicted the initial results (yet she responded to immune support supplements focused for fiv). So, in her twenty some years, she has rallied to the proverbial nine lives of a cat plus some. No surprise, as much as I wished otherwise, that she chose at this time in her life to utilize her determination towards her own gradual path to the next journey in spirit. To say we miss her is such an understatement. She will always be with us and I pray also that our life together and the love for her by so many will be with her always.
When I emailed Dr H, now long retired, to let him know that the last of our orphanage cats had gone ahead, his remembrance of her touched me deeply. I hope you don’t mind me sharing this excerpt that resonated and I feel is something that likely we all share, whether our beloveds are with us for but a few years, whatever their age, or into the decades (please note that he has always held a special bond with all animals, but especially cats, and no aspersions to droolers intended
)
“...There is such a beauty in old cats, and usually older dogs. There is [also] that feeling that when they have made this passage with peace, it is both a peace that they have entrusted us with and showed us the way....and, in doing so, that we might envy to be in our own mortality....”
Ever our vines of love and healing for all kitties and beans here in the vicissitudes of loss, and the day-to-day, moment-to-moment challenges that we face for and with our dear kitties.
I want to thank everyone who has cared about civvie Azalea in these recent years, through her surgeries and illnesses, her ups and downs, the smiles and the tears. Thank you for your prayers, vines and healing support and your friendship and kindness: @Bobbie And Bubba @Gill & George @Jill & Alex (GA) @Ella & Rusty & Stu(GA) @Gussie's mom @carfurby @Squalliesmom @Tricia Cinco(GA) & Harvey @Amy&TrixieCat @Osha @manxcat419 and so many others, including and not limited to @PussCatPrince @Tracey&Jones @Sean & Rufus @Bronx's dad @Photorecon.
And for beans and their furry families, whatever the age and whatever the challenges, here’s a saying that comes to mind, from the hippy-era times that some of us, lol, remember: “Keep the faith, baby!”
Thank you all and with all our love from Sootie’s Tribe, two-footers and four-footers, of in-the-here-and-now and of in-the-spirit,
Sina
Dear Friends,
My apologies for the dual dates of this condo: I started this condo Tuesday afternoon after Steve and I returned from bringing Azalea to our old vet both for her final arrangements and so that those there who have known and loved her for so many years could say their goodbyes. The need to rest and to feel Azalea's light came upon us all soon after. The process of putting feelings and memories to words was slow and initially exhausting. Now, after these few days of inner submersion and the return of sunlight, we are beginning to re-emerge. I apologize in advance for what’s become quite a lengthy piece from a body who could barely put two sentences together two days ago.
First, thank you Bobbie @Bobbie And Bubba both for giving Azalea, who always was one to embrace energy, your support and reiki healings during what became Azalea's final days of transition, the pulsations of which resonated for all of us, too. Thank you, too, Bobbie, for sharing in your condo on Tuesday morning that Azalea had crossed over and for the place to reply as best I could at the time and with thanks to those who shared their condolences via your condo.
Tuesday morning, as dawn broke, our sweet Azalea crossed over, at home where she wanted to be, peacefully on her own and not alone, always loved. She was in no pain and gently transitioned from this world towards the next, with her final release in the whisp of a gentle breath. Even during these past weeks and days, she was her ever indomitable Azalea determined to follow her path wherever it may lead, with her big as ever indomitability and lightness of being always guiding her and me.
Once Steve composed himself from the actuality that Azalea had passed on, he recalled her earlier years, including the times when the clowder was the very young 'uns Sootie and her sisters Guernsey and Sweetie Pie, and Azalea with her contemporaries Hoppy and Ted. In those years (and those were the years before predators became a presence in the village) they were indoor-outdoor kitties, each with individual rhythms of what indoor and outdoor meant: Hoppy stayed within the yard, often basking on the front porch or on our neighbor's stone wall (oh yes, he had also became accustomed to visiting the couple in the little rental cottage. They had a cat, Miss Kitty, whom he was quite enamoured of. He continued the practice of visiting the cottage even when the new tenant, a youngish bachelor, moved in after the couple had left because they bought a house. One time Hoppy had settled in for a nap in the bedroom closet where the bachelor and his then-girlfriend were unaware of his presence...ah, the rest is a story for another day). Ted, having been strafed one too many times by black birds that he was convinced were out to get him (they were), evolved to rarely venture into open space, much preferring the cover of the porch. Sootie and her sisters romped and played in the yard, though one or the other could be found on summer nights dancing about in the moonlight entranced by fireflies. One night I saw Sweetie Pie in a round of play with our neighborhood skunk family, romping together like best buddies in the middle of our quiet street under the light of the street lamp.
Azalea, however, was the adventuress. No sooner did she come indoors then she would return outdoors only to return with a baby vole, mouse, small garden snake, or a bird. Sometimes I could release the stunned prey, other times prayers and a fitting burial. And so on throughout the summers’ days and nights. On the nights when all but Azalea were accounted for, I would call for her and she would either come prancing back from parts unknown or take her own sweet time. If she wasn’t back by midnight, Steve would go out and call for her. She’d come to him from across lots, in what he describes to this day as her characteristic speedy high step, light and fast as can be and then she would amble cheerily along aside him up the driveway and into the house together for the night. Her lightness of step was so....Azalea... the pitter patter of her little paws up and down the stairs made a sound like “little diddle little diddle” and hence her nickname. Tuesday during the afternoon emotional haze amidst the rain and in the kind of sleep that came so soon after her morning along the path of lightness, I felt and could have sworn I heard her little pitter pat steps with the ripplings and glow of all that is Azalea.
One summer she went missing for what turned out to be three days. I searched everywhere and placed posters, contacted Animal Control, knocked on doors, asked neighbors, checked the nearby marinas morning, noon and night. One marina worker knew her but he had not seen her for some days. Ahah, at least I learned one more piece to the puzzle of her mysterious but regular rounds. I sought the aid of our AC whose best assurance was that she was in proximity, alive and not in harm's way. On the third day, as I trudged up the driveway around sunset, weary and despondent, I said to myself, "I just have to accept that she's gone and that if she is meant to return to us, she will." Then I turned around and looked to the southward horizon, in tears and with one last plea to the Universe. And then, suddenly there she was, scurrying up the street, all tippy toed and full of cheer in her gait and demeanor: “Hi there! what's the problem?" Boy, did I scoop her up and give her mighty happy hugs and snuggles! Turned out she had gotten into a neighbor's garage and they hadn't noticed until they went back in and discovered a speedy little cat zooming like a flash out the door.
Azalea and I first met during a cold harsh winter while I was working for the vet who had the orphanage that I mentioned in Sootie's tribute. One raw cold day a fellow came to the clinic with a very young friendly tabby stray whom he had been feeding; he said he had wanted to keep her, tried to bring her into his home but his wife wouldn't allow another cat. I was orphanage manager that week and took in this unnamed perky stray. She was tiny, skinny, with a slightly stunted, kinked tail and sensitive lower spine, conditions that Dr. H thought might have been the result of an earlier vehicular injury. He thought she was perhaps 6 months old. We fully vetted her, spayed and so on. She ate well and was cheerful, albeit not happy if you touched her tail or lower spine. By late winter, she was ready for adoption, but the appearance of her tail seemed to detract.
Late winter turned into early Spring. One Friday I asked her if she'd like to come home with me for the weekend and she gave me a particularly animated sparkly eyed look. Dr H ok'd her weekend furlough. On Monday, I asked if I could adopt her. He was thrilled, lol. I remember the young relief vet who overheard and commented, "Why do you want her? She's a crazy cat." She simply didn't see Azalea for who she really was.
Then came her name...when I was sure that she knew that we were her home, she began to explore around the yard. One day she was absolutely obsessed with being underneath one of the budding azalea bushes. Ahah! That’s it! Azalea! Then I realized that she had quickly found a group of nesting baby garden snakes. But Azalea her name became nonetheless. The evocation and remembrance of blossoms and Spring.
Over the years, she certainly had a fair share of challenges: the tail and spine injury that she came to us with as a young juvie and who knows what else in her early life as a stray; her unplanned three-day adventure in a neighbor's garage; an early uti and then borderline CKD for many years; corneal tear to her left eye that required the eye-lid closure surgery to help her eye to heal; an altercation or two with big bully Ted, tiny Azalea the victor though not without evidence of battle, including a nasty bite to her tail. Then there was her determined mission to seek the outdoors when we began to keep them indoors when coyotes, fisher cats and foxes began to be sighted. Azalea scratched through one screen in the upstairs porch above the mudroom; after I replaced the screen with stronger material, she scratched through one again while I was at work: I came home to find her greeting me on the path, a bit wonky, but unhurt (she did not like the resulting visit to the vet or that we replaced those screens with yet stronger Azalea-proof screens); then fast forward several years to about 3-4 years ago: her sudden and unexplained bout of silent brain events that eventually abated and the bouts of stomatitis beginning soon after; then in late 2016 the claw puncture injury to the cornea and lens in her right eye and enucleation surgery; and two months later the major dental surgery and eventual faintly fiv+ dx and later tests that contradicted the initial results (yet she responded to immune support supplements focused for fiv). So, in her twenty some years, she has rallied to the proverbial nine lives of a cat plus some. No surprise, as much as I wished otherwise, that she chose at this time in her life to utilize her determination towards her own gradual path to the next journey in spirit. To say we miss her is such an understatement. She will always be with us and I pray also that our life together and the love for her by so many will be with her always.
When I emailed Dr H, now long retired, to let him know that the last of our orphanage cats had gone ahead, his remembrance of her touched me deeply. I hope you don’t mind me sharing this excerpt that resonated and I feel is something that likely we all share, whether our beloveds are with us for but a few years, whatever their age, or into the decades (please note that he has always held a special bond with all animals, but especially cats, and no aspersions to droolers intended
)“...There is such a beauty in old cats, and usually older dogs. There is [also] that feeling that when they have made this passage with peace, it is both a peace that they have entrusted us with and showed us the way....and, in doing so, that we might envy to be in our own mortality....”
Ever our vines of love and healing for all kitties and beans here in the vicissitudes of loss, and the day-to-day, moment-to-moment challenges that we face for and with our dear kitties.
I want to thank everyone who has cared about civvie Azalea in these recent years, through her surgeries and illnesses, her ups and downs, the smiles and the tears. Thank you for your prayers, vines and healing support and your friendship and kindness: @Bobbie And Bubba @Gill & George @Jill & Alex (GA) @Ella & Rusty & Stu(GA) @Gussie's mom @carfurby @Squalliesmom @Tricia Cinco(GA) & Harvey @Amy&TrixieCat @Osha @manxcat419 and so many others, including and not limited to @PussCatPrince @Tracey&Jones @Sean & Rufus @Bronx's dad @Photorecon.
And for beans and their furry families, whatever the age and whatever the challenges, here’s a saying that comes to mind, from the hippy-era times that some of us, lol, remember: “Keep the faith, baby!”
Thank you all and with all our love from Sootie’s Tribe, two-footers and four-footers, of in-the-here-and-now and of in-the-spirit,
Sina
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). These past days and nights and dawns since Azalea went ahead have been ....well, full of gamuts of evolving emotion and acceptance. I hope to follow through with my intention to reply to each of your beautiful posts, but I hope you’ll bear with me as I might be at a snail’s pace for awhile. 
