Welcome, fellow travelers on the grief journey, and a special welcome to anyone who is new to The Grieving Room. We meet every Monday evening. Whether your loss is recent or many years ago, whether you have lost a person or a pet, or even if the person you are "mourning" is still alive ("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time) you can come to this diary and process your grief in whatever way works for you. You don't have to respond directly to anything written in the diary: share whatever you need to share. We can't solve each other's problems, but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.We are getting tired of needing to post farewell diaries for four-leggeds. This makes the fourth in less than a year. We are, of course, heartsick.
Last May, 2012, Charles and I lost our cat Pest. His brother Tom remained (and remains) alive and well, but without the brother he'd been with since birth, he was desperately lonely. In June, we went to the Humane Society from which we'd adopted the boys, hoping to adopt a pair of kittens, but they didn't have any. Instead, one of their volunteers, on hearing about Tom, recommended that we adopt an adult female cat, not too old, and recommended one cat in particular. That cat was a soft, long-haired gray surrendered by her owner due to the owner's ill health, who is now named Daenerys, Dany (we pronounce it "Danny") for short, and who is currently asleep on our bed.
But there was a near-constant loud meowing coming from one crate out in the main room, and I had to go see what all the hollering was about. A small black puss was yelling her head off, demanding that someone come over and pay her some attention, or at the least, just come over. I decided we needed to see and meet both cats, the black and the grey. We wound up taking both home with us that afternoon. The black one was quickly renamed Vyonne after one of my Dungeons & Dragons characters, a drow assassin.