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Our big ginger guy, Hobbes, passed away last October at the age of 11; after being with us 8 1/2 years. He was as pleasant and gentle a guy as anyone could wish for. My true buddy. No matter where I was in the house, he was around me. My wife wanted his ashes so we got them back in a small container with a lock of his fur on a card. I told her she could pick out a bush and I would plant it in the back with the ashes. She chose a Little Henry Itea which has white blossoms in the late spring and turns bright red/orange leaves in the fall. We call it the Hobbes Plant. Just this afternoon, she looked out and remarked that the white blossoms were starting to open and I told her that it was Hobbes saying hello to us. Sure do miss that darn cat.
Since we had an opening, we adopted a ginger girl that had been brought to our vet as a stray. Don't know what her story was before she wound up at the vet as she had been spayed and just loves people. She is now a year old and full of life. She has really attached herself to my wife and they are truly best buddies. My wife says that Cindy Lou makes her smile. And since the new cat came, our older black cat that we have had for seven years has now become my buddy and wants to be around me a lot. Cats can be interesting.
I commented already, but wasn't sure I mentioned our Siberian Husky who lived to be nearly 16. I supercharged her diet w/ herbs. I think that was pretty old for a husky.
It used to be my torti Brandy who was 18 when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. But, since the beginning of this month, my calico Electra has tied her. I hope Electra bypasses Brandy.
She was pretty much okay until she was fifteen, then the slow decline began. But even at the very end of days she had an appetite. But lack of mobility and other issues hastened matters. She was in too much distress on her last day, so it was the only thing to do. I heard of another spaniel that made it to eighteen.
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