{"id":960,"date":"2017-05-10T14:57:42","date_gmt":"2017-05-10T14:57:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/?p=960"},"modified":"2017-05-10T16:24:46","modified_gmt":"2017-05-10T16:24:46","slug":"a-tribute-to-mr-mittens","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/?p=960","title":{"rendered":"A Tribute to Mr Mittens"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Mittu<\/a><\/p>\n

Every pet owner knows that their pet is the best ever – so we sadly announce the passing of our Mr Mittens aka Mittu, our wonderful Hemingway polydactyl cat. \u00a0He was a large, shy black cat with probable Maine Coon genetics (a BIG boy) who brought us much joy. \u00a0Alas, at approximate age 15 (he was a shelter cat from OCAP before there was a shelter and then returned when his elderly owner died – thus becoming an OCAP legacy cat whose quirky personality shortened his second shelter stay by a lot by grabbing a hold of my wife’s soul . . .) and after 4 years of training his staff, he contracted a lymphoma that ultimately lead to the end of his life. \u00a0He was a gentle soul to the end and we can not thank Dr. Sturmer, Dr. Griffin, Erin, Donna, Chelsea and everyone else at Deepwoods Veterinary clinic for their kind and gentle care of our boy. \u00a0 ker<\/p>\n

Gone but will never forgotten. \u00a0Adopt a shelter cat or dog today – they need you and you need them! \u00a0The following poems were given in tribute to this great cat from my wife’s favorite poets:<\/p>\n

Every year<\/p>\n

everything<\/p>\n

I have ever learned<\/p>\n

in my lifetime<\/p>\n

leads back to this:\u00a0 the fires<\/p>\n

and the black river of loss<\/p>\n

whose other side<\/p>\n

is salvation,<\/p>\n

whose meaning<\/p>\n

none of us will ever know.<\/p>\n

To live in this world<\/p>\n

you must be able to do three things:<\/p>\n

to love what is mortal;<\/p>\n

to hold it<\/p>\n

against your bones knowing<\/p>\n

your own life depends on it;<\/p>\n

and, when the time comes to let it go,<\/p>\n

AND FINALLY<\/p>\n

I will close now with another poem by Mary Oliver. She adopted a dog who had a sad past and significant problems, but they had a deep and meaningful relationship before he passed on. \u00a0CR<\/p>\n

The first time Percy came back<\/p>\n

he was not sailing on a cloud.<\/p>\n

He was loping along the sand as though<\/p>\n

he had come a great way.<\/p>\n

“Percy,” I cried out, and reached to him-<\/p>\n

those white curls-<\/p>\n

but he was unreachable.\u00a0 As music<\/p>\n

is present yet you can’t touch it.<\/p>\n

“Yes, it’s all very different,” he said.<\/p>\n

“You’re going to be very surprised.”<\/p>\n

But I wasn’t thinking of that. I only<\/p>\n

wanted to hold him.\u00a0 “Listen,” he said,<\/p>\n

“I miss that too.<\/p>\n

And now you’ll be telling stories<\/p>\n

of my coming back<\/p>\n

and they won’t be false, and they won’t be true,<\/p>\n

but they’ll be real.”
\nAnd then, as he used to, he said, “Let’s go!”<\/p>\n

And we walked down the beach together.<\/p>\n