Tribyute, Mahler House of Pommerehn

[large white smooshface climbs to the podium and carefully sets down
two sheets of paper.]

It's bin a terribull yeer fur da Hous ov Pommerehn.
Mine adoptiff Gramma Ann has sendid too Tribyoots dat I will reed.
Mahler went to da Bridge on May 5 dis yeer, an hismom rote dis dat
day.

[a quiet but clear voice reads:]

Mahler has just left for the Bridge to be with his Grandma Pommerehn.
He came to me as a rescue kitty in 1997, and was, as one of his TEDs
said, the sweetest boy they ever met. He will be cremated and
returned to me in a few weeks. His Grandma Pommerehn always called him
"Pesty" which totally cracked us up.

I am going to miss his antics, love, and humor. He was a special boy
who loved classical music, especially my bass part when practicing.
He even came to orchestra practice every once in a while. He loved
working on experiments and projects with Tiny Tiger. They were
certainly meant for each other.

I'll not forget him laying in my arms and looking up at me, as if to
say, I love you and will take care of you. He always slept by my
pillow each night on the knitted smurgle blanket momEva made for him.
It was interesting that no other cat in the house would try to lay on
it. Just like they knew it was his special possession.

He was so intelligent that he could figure out how to undo the baby
locks on lower cabinets. He loved watching me use power tools. I
just know he was itching to get a paw on my power drill, for instance.
The more power, the better.

I could write tons about him, but won't take up your time. You should
get the gist from this.

He played hard Monday and Tuesday, but by Wednesday had started to
slow down and not act like himself. He got worse, so I called TED and
got him in. He ended up with kidney failure, liver failure, diabetes,
and a host of other nasty stuff. I have a living will for myself, and
had decided long ago that would be what I wanted for any cat that
owned me. So, tonight about 7:45pm, he left up to be with friends and
family. The Bridge will never be the same.

He was 10 years old, and had never slowed down a bit as he got older.
I and the other boys will miss him so much. He'll be in my heart
forever.

Thank you, Mahler, my special little orange/red and white boy, for
giving me such fun and love, and for making my life so much better.
Goodbye, my boy, I'll see you soon.

Your mom,

Ann

--
Remove the first m to reply

Mahler is helfy now, an dis was a furry special tryboot to him.

Booker, fur hiz fambly

Azad, fur da fambly wrote:

> [large white smooshface climbs to the podium and carefully sets down
> two sheets of paper.]
>
> It's bin a terribull yeer fur da Hous ov Pommerehn.
> Mine adoptiff Gramma Ann has sendid too Tribyoots dat I will reed.
> Mahler went to da Bridge on May 5 dis yeer, an hismom rote dis dat
> day.
>
> [a quiet but clear voice reads:]
>
gently snipped