One More to Sparkle Pond

I have not posted here since Zoe went to Sparkle Pond a couple of weeks ago.

You all know how much I LOVE Zoe (no past tense, here!).  But sadness and grief are not why I haven't been writing. 

The reason I haven't been writing is that our beloved Miss Emmie was also getting ready to follow her Bunny to Sparkle Pond. 

Miss Emmie had made it fairly obvious over the last year that she was gearing up to go pretty soon.  We weren't sure when or how it would go, but we knew it was coming. 

Over the last couple of weeks, since Zoe's departure, and in the midst of feeling sad about all that had transpired and the suddenness with which it all happened, Miss Emmie gave us a clear sign that she was done on this earth as well-- she stopped eating.  We knew what was coming, so we focused all our attentions on her for her remaining time here.  On Tuesday, in the middle of the night, she went to be with Zoe and the others. 

2010 has been a difficult year at the Lilypad.  We have had four residents go off to Sparkle Pond.  But in addition to being difficult, it's also been wonderful because there is always LOVE.

The GIANT LOVE that Rosie, Scottie, Emmie, and Zoe (as well as Jobie and Ernie, who were in Sparkle Pond from years past) brought to us?  It is worth the sadness and sense of loss we feel no matter how hard it is to feel it.

The Love is Always Worth it.

Rest in peace, Miss Emmie.  We love you.

Miss Zoe Lives Forever

On Tuesday, December 14th at around 8:30 PM, Miss Zoe, Bunny of my Heart and Soul, left this world to go to Sparkle Pond.  We were holding Her and were with Her every second.

It's a little too hard to write much more than that right now, so I'm not going to try. 

Just know this:  Zoe will never be gone.  Those of you who loved Her know that She will live forever.  She will always be in charge of you.  She will always be telling you what to do and what to think.

And, She will never stop teaching you about Love and the Power of Love.  She was Love in a Rabbit Shape.  Fuzzy Love.  Velvet Love.  Pure, Unconditional Love.

If you would like to do something in Her memory, please donate to her favorite charity,  

Orphan Angels 

(scroll down the page to find their Donate Button), 

 or give to your local Rabbit Adoption Center. 

Oh, and give yourself a Big Hug From Zoe.  

You've not heard the last from her.  Not by any means.

Farewell, Sweet F. Scott

Last Friday, the Rabbit Girls and I posted a movie for our dear, sweet, Scottie Cat (a.k. a. F. Scott Fitzgerald).  Scottie had rather suddenly taken ill a couple of weeks ago, and we thought it would be nice to honor him.

We didn't really know what was wrong with him, though his symptoms could mostly be chalked up to old age (he was somewhere between 17 and 20 years old-- we never knew how old he was when we adopted him).

We first met Scottie at our local Humane Society.  The Chick had gone there to pick out a cat.  She had just gotten Ernie, who was a teeny kitten who made funny pterodactyl sounding sounds, and who needed a friend.  When she walked past the cats in their little cat pens, Scottie reached out and grabbed her.  From that very second, she knew that he was our cat-- he picked us.   Well, he picked her at any rate.

The Humane Society would not let her take him home.  She had just moved into an apartment, and they needed tons of proof that, since she was living in an apartment,  that having a cat was OK with her landlord, etc.  She didn't have that.

At the time, I was still living with my parents while just beginning graduate school.  So the next day, I went in by myself and snatched Scottie.  They had no problem giving him to me, since I lived in a residence with my family.  Scottie seemed confused.  "Don't worry," I told him on the way to the Chick's apartment.  "You'll like where I'm taking you.  I promise."

And that was that.  We had two sweet orange and white cats.

At first, Scottie was depressed.  He would sit at the window and cry and cry.  He would sit and stare at the walls.  Slowly, Ernie taught him how to play.  They remained best friends for 13 years.

Ever since Ernie packed up and moved to Sparkle Pond a few years ago now, Scottie has been lonely for him. 

At 2:30 Am on Saturday, June 19, 2010, they were reunited.

We still don't really know what was wrong with Scottie, and frankly, it doesn't matter.  He lived a good, long life full of playing and snuggling and loving and lots of brothers and sisters.  He loved his rabbits and he loved to eat.  He could sit in the window for hours with his big, fluffy orange squirrel tail floating around in the breeze.  Scottie loved people.  He would greet people like a butler at the door, and as soon as they sat down, he'd want to be on their lap.  

He loved everyone equally and well.  We can all learn from that attribute.


You will be missed, sweet Scottie.  Sparkle Pond will be a better place because of you.  And Ernie will be happy to see you.   I can't say the same for Jobie and Rosie, since they weren't always so sure of you as Ernie was, but they will at least give you a nod and a growl if nothing else.


Thank you for being such a wonderful cat, Scottie. 

 Scottie in the Rabbit Room with Zoe-- just last week.

Scottie's last portrait Pre-Sparkle Pond, 

again taken last week in his Rabbits' Room.  

Still so handsome.

Rest in Peace, Scottie.  We'll love you forever.

Friends We Miss

Lately, the Chick and I have felt a little out of sorts.

It is not a sad out of sorts, necessarily.  Not exactly.  It's more of an underlying persistent kind of ache that you feel when something is missing.  Like, we were walking trough Lowe's today, and suddenly, Christine turned to me and said she was missing Rosie the cat like crazy.

We realized that we both were.

And when we say we miss Rosie the Cat, we realize that we miss Jobie and Ernie the Cats, too, and that I miss my Grandpa and also my Grandma, who went to Sparkle Pond right before Ernie. 

And then, we remember that we are feeling this way in large part because today is the one year anniversary of our dear friend Ken's passage to Sparkle Pond.  Besides that, in another few days, in fact on the 12th of June, it will also mark the one year anniversary of my friend Susan's (with whom I worked) passage to Sparkle Pond.

That's a lot of people to be missing!

I guess more than any sadness, what we are feeling about these passings, both the ones that were timely (like my Grandparents, who were both in their 90s and the cats who were like little oldsters themselves) and the ones that were not so timely (like Ken and Susan who were both in their 50s) is a sense of urgency-- are we living our lives as we want to live them?  Are we doing the things we were put on this Earth to do?  Are we keeping our promises to be the people we say we want to be?

Those are questions that the Chick and I contemplate all the time.  Our lives are always a balance to live our creative dreams while still dealing with the practicalities of day to day living.  It is a difficult balance sometimes, and it can get frustrating and seem overwhelming.

We have a lot of Diva Moments here in the Lilypad as we try to negotiate these types of challenges.

We are Very Challenged!

"Challenged?  Yeah-- no kidding!!"

The point is, though, that we try to meet these challenges with some amount of Grace.  And that Grace is something that we learned from the People and Cats I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

Also, it is partly through the Teachings of Such People and Such Cats that we remember that these things that we do?  They really are Worthwhile and Important.

Living our Dreams is Worthwhile and Important.

We will feel out of sorts for awhile now.  And that's OK because that is our Reminder.

As the Chick often says, "It's Important to Remember to Remember."

So, that's what we will do.

Sparkle Pond is Getting Crowded

Yesterday marked the passing of my final Grandparent, Harold Dwight Fitch.

I know this much: I was fortunate, lucky, and blessed to have my Grandparents in my life for as long as I did. All of them were around until I was into my 30s. They all lived to be in their 90s, and each one of them was of sound mind until the very end.

And Grandpa Fitch was the last of them all.

I will miss everything about my Grandpa. Everything. To know him was to love him -- just ask anyone who knew him. He was just Special.

Grandma and Grandpa Fitch
in front of their house in Titusville, PA

Grandpa and I seemed to love all the same things: Art and Drawing. Birds. Music, especially Jazz. Coffee. Animals (though not necessarily cats, and not necessarily Rabbits. When he met Zoe, however, he told her she was safe-- much too soft for a stew. Oh, Grandpa!). Ice Cream. Learning new things.

Oh, and we both loved Grandma.

Throughout my life, those were the subjects we always came back to.

Of course, there were some other things that he liked that weren't necessarily my thing: Math for one thing (he was an engineer). Also fishing. (I don't not like fishing exactly, but...)

Grandpa with a prized Something-
Fish. Bass? I don't know my fish.

Well, and Organ Music isn't my favorite either, but when Grandpa would sit down and start playing "Ain't She Sweet" I couldn't help but love it. He played by ear. I always thought this was the coolest thing in the world.

Me and my sister with Grandma and Grandpa
(I'm the cute and adorable baby. Apparently, I looked
drunk in pictures then, too.)

I loved staying at Grandma's and Grandpa's house when I was little. I was there a lot.

My parents were both teachers, so before I was old enough to start school, I went to Grandma's house everyday when my parents went off to school. My dad would drop me off on his way, and I would get there just before Grandpa would head off to work.

I loved that time in the mornings. I would run in their house, put on Grandpa's slippers and hat and go straight to the cupboard where the cookie jar lived, where many mornings "The Mousie" (a.k.a. Grandpa) would have left me a little note telling me not to eat all his cookies!

On Sunday, when I went to visit him, just two days ago, he said to me, "Remember that Mousie? He used to try to get your food, didn't he?"

"He sure did, Grandpa," I said. "But I think he usually gave up and let me eat it anyway."

When I would sleep over on weekends, we would watch Lawrence Welk together while Grandpa smoked his pipe and he and Grandma told me every little detail about all the performers on the show. They knew everything about those people! It was amazing!

Oh, and we watched a lot of cartoons. Grandpa loved Tom and Jerry and the Flintstones, Woody Woodpecker and Bugs Bunny. That Roadrunner and Wiley Coyote made him laugh every time.

Grandpa and Me enjoying some after-dinner coffee.
We have the same haircut in this picture.

I could go on for pages. I could probably fill a book with all my memories. And those would only be some of them. He was one of the most wonderful people I've ever known. I'm just lucky that he was also my Grandpa and that I got to spend so much time with him. And, that he loved me.

He was the one who nicknamed me "Frog" from a shirt I used to wear. The Chick never calls me anything but Frog to this day. I am Aunt Frog to my niece, and my sister calls me Frog, too.

If I were a Frog at Sparkle Pond (akin to a Fly on the Wall), I would get to see what Grandpa's up to now. My guess is that he's out on a boat (away from all the previously arrived cats of ours) and he's fishing and enjoying himself. When he's caught a few, he'll go to wherever he and Grandma call home now, and fry those fish up for dinner along with some onions.

For desert, they'll have an ice cream sundae.

Someday, I'll get to share ice cream with them both again. Not that I'm in a hurry. If I follow suit, I have about 50-60 years left in this life.

But, someday, I'll be at their house again, eating ice cream and watching reruns of Lawrence Welk while Grandma shakes her head saying, "Listen to Myron play that accordion, Harold," and Grandpa counts out, "And-a-one, and-a-two" in his best Lawrence Welk (Austrian?) accent.

I can hear it now.