It has been a sad weekend, my furry brothers and sisters. My canine counterpart from across the sea has passed away. She was a lovely old girl. Here are some pictures of her provided by Evan's sister Jane. Below the pictures is a note from Rosie that her human found when going through her things.
Sevgili kediciğim Harriet,
I can't write much, forgive me. I have to go in a little while for my rabies shot.
The salutation is in Turkish, the language of my birth masters. I've had the urge lately to do some digging around my roots, so when Feed-and-walk-me Female is out during the day I bone up on my Turkish. I can't get up to the desktop computer anymore. Thanks heavens for the iPad. So intuitive. The screen licks clean very nicely.
Mistress is not coming home smelling of chemicals so much now, but rather of sunburn. The weather has been dry and often sunny, but her face is not red, so I wonder. The sunning place must be far off, because she comes home very tired. I do my best to make things easy for her, taking my pills easily and not lingering before doing my business when she takes me out. I make it clear that the walks can be short.
I had a bout of The Gushing Bottom not long ago accompanied by some heaves. Both Mistress and Early Up Male were patient with me, but they were put out. I did my best to drop it all on the (Turkish) carpet where it would be less noticeable, but they took great pains to eradicate all my careful work. Then they tried to starve me! Nothing at all for more than 36 hours, and after that a fraction of the normal haul.
Then much whispering and hand wringing when Happy Hug Talk Female came back carrying scents new to me. Much talking into the plastic thing in their hands. Significant looks in my direction. Then they started to feed me some more, my troubled innards having calmed down, and I started to feel good again. Whereupon all three bipeds seemed to cheer up. They have a thing about firm stools, I guess.
Home-in-the-evenings Person has brushed me twice recently. About time. I know you cats are proud of your fur, but you should see mine. And stroke it. Everyone says it's exquisite. Brushing Male was quite overcome the other day as he undid my tangles.
Since the bad patch I have been getting even more food than normal. But I must say that the overall service is not what it could be. Since I cannot always get up, depending on where I've settled down, I naturally have to call for assistance. This at first confuses them, as if, after 12 years, they still have trouble telling my calls apart. No, there's no one at the door. Please just lift my ass up so I can take a little drink.
I was thinking of laying down some post-its to remind myself of where not to lie, but that would give away much and we don't want the delusional Tall Ones cottoning on to the Great Dog Ruse.
It also seems to bother them that I sometimes fall down when walking or when going for the perfect angle of pee or poop. I agree about the poop, and am careful to stay up, but when you gotta pee and you can't get up, you just pee.
The other day the carrying box would not accept us inside so Porter Male carried me down the dreaded steps. It was sweet, if tense.
We had a visit from some very nice humans for a visit last week. Cooking Woman was very tired, but she and her pack mate Kiwi fixed up that dinner with cheese and potatoes and it smelled very fine. Especially the thin slices of meat. The visitors had a bitch pup who was very engaging and nice with me. She agreed about my fur being so nice and planted a few highly appropriate kisses on my coat.
I am tired and cannot do much, and I admit to more and more frequent moments of concern, as when I can't get up to take a drink when there are no bipeds at home. Or when the building cats don't bother to move away when I shuffle up to them. Movement is getting harder and harder and and I am not strong.
Beautiful and sweet only get a bitch so far.
Still, I'm happy.
Anyway, Puss, I have to go. Take care of yourself.
Rosie
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