The final farewell

It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done, for
the deed itself is never fina; they must let us know that the ashes have been
returned to the office for pick-up. When i got the call I was at a friend's
house all the way in South Buffalo (we live in one of the northern suburbs)
and Louie drove down to pick me up. it was after 9 at night, but the office
is a 24-hour shop.

We received Odessa's ashes in a tiny tin painted with roses on a black
background. The pattern had an oddly Russian feel to it, like the decorations
on a matryushka doll's round little nesting body. How appropriate. Odessa was
our Dolly and our Black Russian Princess. Louie found her collar, the one she
came with. Her enire litter was black, so they all had color-coded collars in
the shelter, and as she was used to it when we got her we saw no need to
remove it until she got sick--somehow thinking this would help her breathing.
All the other cats ended up getting collars, and this had helped Odessa
integrate; it was like now there was solidarity. The siblings had collars,
just like all her littermates.

We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of all.
Not far from our home is a charming litle park running with creeklets in
little waterfalls and minirapids; it is a popular place for weddings and
picnics. But here we went in the dark of night, shaking off traffic, trying
not to look around like we were doing anything other than fulfilling our
faith. At a bridge overlooking the creek, where the water ran and a gentle
mist hovered over small round rocks, Louie and I asked Odessa in the heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses, little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting, for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha

--
Message posted via CatKB.com
http://www.catkb.com/Uwe/Forums.aspx...dotes/200711/1

I do feel every cat that you live with becomes part of your soul. She will
always be there watching over you.





"Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe wrote in message news:7aaf8fe64a196@uwe...
It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done,
for
the deed itself is never fina; they must let us know that the ashes have
been
returned to the office for pick-up. When i got the call I was at a
friend's
house all the way in South Buffalo (we live in one of the northern
suburbs)
and Louie drove down to pick me up. it was after 9 at night, but the
office
is a 24-hour shop.

We received Odessa's ashes in a tiny tin painted with roses on a black
background. The pattern had an oddly Russian feel to it, like the
decorations
on a matryushka doll's round little nesting body. How appropriate. Odessa
was
our Dolly and our Black Russian Princess. Louie found her collar, the one
she
came with. Her enire litter was black, so they all had color-coded collars
in
the shelter, and as she was used to it when we got her we saw no need to
remove it until she got sick--somehow thinking this would help her
breathing.
All the other cats ended up getting collars, and this had helped Odessa
integrate; it was like now there was solidarity. The siblings had collars,
just like all her littermates.

We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a
loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the
person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of
all.
Not far from our home is a charming litle park running with creeklets in
little waterfalls and minirapids; it is a popular place for weddings and
picnics. But here we went in the dark of night, shaking off traffic,
trying
not to look around like we were doing anything other than fulfilling our
faith. At a bridge overlooking the creek, where the water ran and a gentle
mist hovered over small round rocks, Louie and I asked Odessa in the
heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the
water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not
done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught
of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses,
little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright
purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then
at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting,
for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha

--
Message posted via CatKB.com
http://www.catkb.com/Uwe/Forums.aspx...dotes/200711/1

Baha via CatKB.com wrote:



We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of all.

Baha, I realize a discussion of your religion would be too
OT for rpca, but the above, and several things you've said
in the past, have interested me. I had a Sikh family living
next door to me in North Hollywood, but I only knew them to
say "good morning" to. I gather it is not just a branch of
Hinduism, and would like to know more. Where can I read
about the basic beliefs? (You can e-mail me - although
Earthlink throws any message from people not in my address
book into a "suspect" file, I check it daily for messages I
want.)

Evelyn

On Sun, 04 Nov 2007 01:05:30 GMT, "Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe
wrote:

It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done, for
the deed itself is never fina; they must let us know that the ashes have been
returned to the office for pick-up. When i got the call I was at a friend's
house all the way in South Buffalo (we live in one of the northern suburbs)
and Louie drove down to pick me up. it was after 9 at night, but the office
is a 24-hour shop.

We received Odessa's ashes in a tiny tin painted with roses on a black
background. The pattern had an oddly Russian feel to it, like the decorations
on a matryushka doll's round little nesting body. How appropriate. Odessa was
our Dolly and our Black Russian Princess. Louie found her collar, the one she
came with. Her enire litter was black, so they all had color-coded collars in
the shelter, and as she was used to it when we got her we saw no need to
remove it until she got sick--somehow thinking this would help her breathing.
All the other cats ended up getting collars, and this had helped Odessa
integrate; it was like now there was solidarity. The siblings had collars,
just like all her littermates.

We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of all.
Not far from our home is a charming litle park running with creeklets in
little waterfalls and minirapids; it is a popular place for weddings and
picnics. But here we went in the dark of night, shaking off traffic, trying
not to look around like we were doing anything other than fulfilling our
faith. At a bridge overlooking the creek, where the water ran and a gentle
mist hovered over small round rocks, Louie and I asked Odessa in the heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses, little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting, for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha

"Their Song is ended, but their memories will be with you always".

Try to remember Odessa when she was young and happy and healthy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Life without cats would be only marginally worth living."
-TC, and the unmercifully, relentlessly, sweet calico kitty, Kenzie.

How you behave towards cats here below determines your status in Heaven.
- Robert Heinlein

Life is very difficult. Once you understand that, life becomes easier.
-Buddha

On Nov 3, 8:05 pm, "Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe wrote:

snipped with love and respect

Louie and I asked Odessa in the heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses, little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting, for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha

She is off on adventure we cannot imagine and it may well be that you
will see your little doll and her brother again and all of you will be
filled with joy at the reunion. In the meantime, you helped end her
suffering and she is undoubtedly grateful that you did. But she knew
you would always do the right thing by her. And you did.

Will in New Haven

--

"Ripple in still water,
where there is no pebble tossed,
nor wind to blow."

Robert Hunter (Grateful Dead) "Ripple"
--
Message posted via CatKB.comhttp://www.catkb.com/Uwe/Forums.aspx/cat-anecdotes/200711/1

"Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe wrote in message news:7aaf8fe64a196@uwe...
It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done,
for
the deed itself is never fina; they must let us know that the ashes have
been
returned to the office for pick-up. When i got the call I was at a
friend's
house all the way in South Buffalo (we live in one of the northern
suburbs)
and Louie drove down to pick me up. it was after 9 at night, but the
office
is a 24-hour shop.

We received Odessa's ashes in a tiny tin painted with roses on a black
background. The pattern had an oddly Russian feel to it, like the
decorations
on a matryushka doll's round little nesting body. How appropriate. Odessa
was
our Dolly and our Black Russian Princess. Louie found her collar, the one
she
came with. Her enire litter was black, so they all had color-coded collars
in
the shelter, and as she was used to it when we got her we saw no need to
remove it until she got sick--somehow thinking this would help her
breathing.
All the other cats ended up getting collars, and this had helped Odessa
integrate; it was like now there was solidarity. The siblings had collars,
just like all her littermates.

We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a
loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the
person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of
all.
Not far from our home is a charming litle park running with creeklets in
little waterfalls and minirapids; it is a popular place for weddings and
picnics. But here we went in the dark of night, shaking off traffic,
trying
not to look around like we were doing anything other than fulfilling our
faith. At a bridge overlooking the creek, where the water ran and a gentle
mist hovered over small round rocks, Louie and I asked Odessa in the
heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the
water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not
done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught
of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses,
little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright
purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then
at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting,
for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha


My heart goes out to you-- I know the feeling well. I remember so well the
day I went to the vet to retrieve Mimi's ashes-- I had gone around pretty
much in a state of numbness before then, and when I received the tin box in
my hands, I broke down. And although by that time, my relationship with her
Hoomin Daddy was over, we met again specifically so he could say goodbye
(although we didn't work out, he was and is a good man, and a fine cat- and
d-g- daddy).

I am particularly glad that you found such an appropriate place for her
final rest. I never really found the right place, so Mimi's ashes still
remain in their box in a place of honor in my room.

I can only echo the sentiments of many others here in condolences for your
lost Dolly. I know how hard it is to let them go. But what a beautiful and
wonderful ritual. I'm sure Odessa was very pleased at the lovely way you
took care of her, body and spirit.

Hazel Az

"Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe wrote in message news:7aaf8fe64a196@uwe...
It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done,
for
the deed itself is never fina; they must let us know that the ashes have
been
returned to the office for pick-up. When i got the call I was at a
friend's
house all the way in South Buffalo (we live in one of the northern
suburbs)
and Louie drove down to pick me up. it was after 9 at night, but the
office
is a 24-hour shop.

We received Odessa's ashes in a tiny tin painted with roses on a black
background. The pattern had an oddly Russian feel to it, like the
decorations
on a matryushka doll's round little nesting body. How appropriate. Odessa
was
our Dolly and our Black Russian Princess. Louie found her collar, the one
she
came with. Her enire litter was black, so they all had color-coded collars
in
the shelter, and as she was used to it when we got her we saw no need to
remove it until she got sick--somehow thinking this would help her
breathing.
All the other cats ended up getting collars, and this had helped Odessa
integrate; it was like now there was solidarity. The siblings had collars,
just like all her littermates.

We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a
loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the
person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of
all.
Not far from our home is a charming litle park running with creeklets in
little waterfalls and minirapids; it is a popular place for weddings and
picnics. But here we went in the dark of night, shaking off traffic,
trying
not to look around like we were doing anything other than fulfilling our
faith. At a bridge overlooking the creek, where the water ran and a gentle
mist hovered over small round rocks, Louie and I asked Odessa in the
heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the
water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not
done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught
of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses,
little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright
purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then
at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting,
for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha

--
Message posted via CatKB.com
http://www.catkb.com/Uwe/Forums.aspx...dotes/200711/1

"Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe wrote in message news:7aaf8fe64a196@uwe...
It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done,
for
the deed itself is never fina; they must let us know that the ashes have
been
returned to the office for pick-up. When i got the call I was at a
friend's
house all the way in South Buffalo (we live in one of the northern
suburbs)
and Louie drove down to pick me up. it was after 9 at night, but the
office
is a 24-hour shop.

We received Odessa's ashes in a tiny tin painted with roses on a black
background. The pattern had an oddly Russian feel to it, like the
decorations
on a matryushka doll's round little nesting body. How appropriate. Odessa
was
our Dolly and our Black Russian Princess. Louie found her collar, the one
she
came with. Her enire litter was black, so they all had color-coded collars
in
the shelter, and as she was used to it when we got her we saw no need to
remove it until she got sick--somehow thinking this would help her
breathing.
All the other cats ended up getting collars, and this had helped Odessa
integrate; it was like now there was solidarity. The siblings had collars,
just like all her littermates.

We knew what we had to do. In Sikh religious tradition, the ashes of a
loved
one are cast into running water. The idea is that the essence of the
person--
soul or spirit--has gone on to God; the mortal remains are consigned to
Mother Nature. One of our prayers reads the Earth is the Great Mother of
all.
Not far from our home is a charming litle park running with creeklets in
little waterfalls and minirapids; it is a popular place for weddings and
picnics. But here we went in the dark of night, shaking off traffic,
trying
not to look around like we were doing anything other than fulfilling our
faith. At a bridge overlooking the creek, where the water ran and a gentle
mist hovered over small round rocks, Louie and I asked Odessa in the
heavens
to forgive us for any undue suffering we may have caused her; and for
Luonnotar who is Mother Nature to take her little one back to herself and
grant her peace. After that, we cast the ashes off the bridge, into the
water
and mist.

Our regular vet had sent flowers, and the one who did the deed had sent a
card though she had never known Odessa. (I wondered why our vet had not
done
a card, then figured it must fall upon the one who administers the Draught
of
Mercy.) The flowers were a bright fall mix of carnations, small roses,
little
dried purple flowers that grew in bunches on thin stems, and a bright
purple
lily. Into the tin box we put Odessa's collar and her makeup brush, then
at
least one of every flower in the arrangement. All the roses had dried but
were still perfect blossoms on the stem, so they went in; a carnation, and
the dried petals of the lily, and some of the purple ones. There was an
unopened bud, probably a carnation, and that went in too. It was fitting,
for
one so young as my Odessa-Doll. Her little gift of flowers and mementos of
her playful presence among us sits anong our books, next to the handsome
rosewood box filled with rose petals, that had contained the ashes of her
elder brother Fritzie.

God, I miss them.



I posted to this earlier, but the posting seems to have been eaten.I
remember so well the day I received little Mimi's ashes. I had been numb
and frozen, and when I got that tin box in my hand, I broke down. She is in
a place of honor in my home. I am so glad you found the right place to
scatter the ashes, and a loving way to say goodbye.

On 4 Nov, 11:17, "Kreisleriana" drtmuiratearthlink.net wrote:


I posted to this earlier, but the posting seems to have been eaten.I
remember so well the day I received little Mimi's ashes.

I must admit I have left disposal to the vet and instead made a
donation in their memory to a cat charity or the PDSA. I know some
people will probably think me horrible but to me all they've left
behind is an empty shell- Dave claims he felt Isis leave for the
Bridge, she was asleep and then he said a chill passed through the
room and he just knew she was on her way.

Instead we held memorial services for our RB kitties where we sat and
talked about all the good times even through we were both sobbing our
hearts out and each of them has a little shrine to their memory in the
living room, a framed photo with a candle (which I light when an rpca
kitty crosses the Bridge) and incense in holders (It's a sort of
combined shrine to all the important people I;ve lost. them, mum, dad
and Mick). I see them every day and often say "Good morning" to them
and find myself saying "Giving you a strokie" when I polish the frames
I am the Worlds worse housekeeper (Quentin Crisp was my role model!)
but these are kept clean

I doubt if I could handle ashes after my mum died her ashes sat in the
undertakers for a year then in the spare bedroom of her old house
while my neice was living there when we sold it and at last count
three and a half years later, her ashes are in a box in my brothers
garage. The undertaker told us to scatter them somewhere that was
important to her but the bingo hall had a bit of a problem with it and
the hospice whose shop she worked 5 days a week until 6 weeks before
she died said it wouldn't be a good idea for a patient there to look
out of the window and see someone scattering ashes

I just feel it's very undignified and that I can't reach closure with
mum- is that the right way to put it until the matter of the ashes
gets sorted. Still my youngest brother has decided to come back to
work in London so maybe we can get together sometime and sort it out
(okay the next time I see both of them is my birthday party and that
may not be a good time to raise the subject!)

Lesley

Slave of the Fabulous Furballs

On Nov 3, 7:05 pm, "Baha via CatKB.com" u18616@uwe wrote:
It is never easy, getting that all from the vet after the deed is done, ...
God, I miss them.

Blessed be,
Baha

That was a lovely service. Gentle hugs to you and Louie.
Annie