Yes, when our furry children depart this Earth, it’s like those stories of phantom limb pain, where a patient feels pain coming from an amputated limb. They’re no longer there, but we still feel the presence, and it causes pain Eventually, it hurts somewhat less, but you’ll never really lose that feeling completely. I even find myself missing the dogs I grew up with. (Long departed, of course.) It’s best to try to focus on the positive, the many happy memories.

As for FenWang…if you’ve got it, flaunt it.

Hi, Fred!

The top photo is Satchmo, right? And Gene’s Fred is the lad in the grass.

Before reading the post I clicked on the big one and saved the large size to my desktop because…well, Satch!!!! Cuddlebug extraordinaire.

In any case, even if it isn’t Satch (which, no, it has to be him), I’ll pretend.

Sorry you feel lousy, hope those kidney stones are history, and that it’s just the wingnuts grating on your nerves. There should be old bassets for rent just to cuddle.

It’s Fenway

I know from long and bitter experience with my husband that this is a stupid question, but have you been to a doctor? I know you’ve had a couple of health issues recently, but I don’t like to hear that people I care about haven’t been feeling well for a few weeks. That’s too long.

Feel better, good TBogg. And if you want, I can send you some cats. They LOVE to snuggle. (You have to send them back when you’re finished with them, though.)

The top photo is FENWAY? Oh Lordy. He looks so much like the dearly departed. I bow to the second coming. Good grief…is he cute or what?

Oh yeah, snuggling with the cat. Because when you don’t feel well, why wouldn’t you want to lie absolutely immobile with a creature who insists on all the most comfortable spots, can only be touched during preapproved moments subject to change without notice, and will give you the Glare of Death if you so much as breathe too heavily?

I kid. Sort of. My cat does deign to sit on my lap for several minutes when I’m upset. Otherwise, I’m staff.

And I too hope you’re seeing the doctor. You don’t want to risk infection.

Back in the day I used to work down the hall from a guy with a Seeing-Eye dog, a laid-back low-key Labrador perfectly suited to life amidst the cubicle farmers. After many productive, happy years, Duffy crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and his human partner went away for several weeks and returned with another, younger Lab. He told anybody who’d listen that they’d tried to ‘pawn him off’ with some other lesser breed, but NO, he told them that he’d never be able to work with anything other than Duffy Mark II!….

Unfortunately, the new dog — while very earnest & focused & obviously eager to be the Bestest Partner Evah — just wasn’t Duffy. He zigged left when he should have zagged right, he couldn’t stay out from under the rolling chair wheels, he didn’t have the routes to the lunch room and the john memorized; he just wasn’t Duffy. And the longer they tried to work together, the more resentful the man got, the more discouraged & miserable his partner was. After a month or so, the rest of us would flinch every time we saw the dog slinking past, ears at half-mast, miserably waiting for the next correction.

Shortly afterwards, the guy went back to the training facility and returned with a German Shepherd, a dog that bore no resemblance whatsoever to the late lamented Duffy. And while the GS made all the same rookie mistakes (plus a few all his own), his human partner just couldn’t get as worked up over his “stupidity”. It was much more of a working relationship and less of a friendship (at least during the next year or so, after which I left that office), but it seemed to be a lot less stressful at both ends of the harness.

Wife informs me that satchmoasma is a well known yoga pose; Satchmo was a yogi. You can run from yoga but you can’t hide.

er, that’s satchmoasana(technical problem with transcription from the sanskrit)

satchmoasma is a breathing disorder that causes your voice to sound like Louis Armstrong speaking Sanskrit.

Hugs, Tbogg. Do take care of yourself.

We all miss Satch, though God knows not as deeply as you.

What everybody said, Tbogg. See a doc. Drink some tea with lemon and a splash of rum. Get some rest. Come Tuesday night, inshallah, we’ll all have a reason to feel better.

Fenway always looks like a kindergartner who’s been told to lie down and have a nap and NOT MOVE UNTIL TEACHER SAYS…. He’s too young to be able to follow the instructions and too wiggly not to wear himself out and need the nap.

Not for snuggling tho. How’s Mrs. TBogg for that?

T, I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well, and your hotwaterbottle dog is gone. Wednesday I had to euthanize my beloved kitty Jingle Belle, who was my comfort every night. She slept right in the curve of my back ever since we adopted her fourteen years ago. She had congestive heart failure and at her advanced age, there was no hope of saving her.

It IS like losing a part of you. She was a constant companion, usually nestled on my shoulder when I was watching tv at night, sleeping nearby when I was in my studio. I still haven’t had the heart to take “her” cushion off the rocking chair and blow the cat hair from it.

I hope you are feeling better soon, but that empty space will probably take longer to fill. Good luck.

The peaceful snores of our old (now gone) beagles in the afternoons used to lull me to sleep at my desk. Still miss those old girls too.

You’ve all got me crying again. I miss Satchmo. I miss my 18 year old cat-buddy who had to leave last year. I’m sitting here with my new rescue kitty in my lap, knowing that at 10 years old, I won’t be blessed with her presence as long as I’d like to be either, but life marches on and we remember our friends, sometimes with smiless, sometimes with tears. Today it looks like the latter for me.

Please get better Tbogg, as soon as you possibly can.

Sorry about it, Tbogg. ::: sniff :::

Fred Basset! I’d forgotten all about that comic strip.

Be assured that Tbogg has seen a doctor and we are working through all the possible treatments for what ails him. That being said, he’s having an especially rough week as I am off gallivanting in Hawaii with the L&T Casey and he is left with wrangling the not-so-snugly beasties on his own. It’s not a pretty job. Oh…and I miss Satchmo too….every day.

Best wishes to all the TBoggs and TDogs, present and past.

Dude, you’ll snuggle Satchmo again: sometime, somewhere. These kind of bonds don’t get formed just to be broken by a simple thing like death. I have no religious faith and deride the idea of floating up to spend eternity praising some wingnut’s idea of the creator. But do I believe that I’ll see again our kitteh who passed away at 19 yrs old, and that she’ll be all crotchety and snuffling and wanting to know why the food bowl is empty? You bet I do – that’s one afterlife certainty you can take to the bank!

Tears here too. I miss my black Halloween kitty Cypress, first Halloween without her. The only cat I’ve ever known who wanted to snuggle with me, and me the only person she ever wanted to snuggle. Two new rescue kittens who don’t trust us yet because they have ringworm and I keep giving them baths and medicine, and one older cat who loves my partner and views me as a sort of mobile can opener. It’s not their fault, but it’s sure not the same.

Feel better, Tbogg. And I’ll be thinking of all you guys and your furkids, especially donnah. Take care, it does get better, believe it or not. Just not much better for a long time, unfortunately.

It may not make you feel better (physically), but it will surely make you laugh (and, per Reader’s Digest, Laughter Is The Best Medicine):

Doug Stanhope at Winston’s on Nov. 14th.
http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/37257

Be there or be square!