For seven years, I knew love and affection, given without condition and without judgment. I have never been so deeply connected to another animal. When I went to bed, he followed me in. When I woke up, he followed me out. When I came home, he was waiting to run to me. When I sat in this chair, 9 times out of 10 he was in my lap. When I called his name, I heard the soft patter of his claws across the kitchen floor, and then he would greet me with his raspy "reh". This was Dzambala, aka Creamsickle the Elusive Liger, aka Zamba, Egg, etc. etc. (you know how us cat people are).



All of these moments are now gone from my days. I don't know when the ache in my core and my bones and the burning in my eyes will subside, but I will never forget him. He was only 7. I tried everything I could to turn his kidney disease around, to no avail. On two days before his passing, he brightened up and I felt real hope that he had turned a corner and that we would have more time, with a serious but manageable health condition.

But on Saturday, something was wrong. He was still loving and curled up in my lap and answering to his name. But he kept making trips to one litter box, then down the hall to the other one, and nothing was coming out. His bladder seemed normal sized when I felt his abdomen. But just after 4 he let out a quiet, low moan that was barely a whimper. He had been straining a lot for the last 6 weeks, but he was always quiet before. I thought maybe the pain medicine was constipating him. So I went to the store for some Miralax around 5:30, and returned a half hour later to find him stretched out limp inside the door, facing toward the sunlight.

Thanks to his vet, he was comfortable up until the very last hours, and I think he was in very little pain. His system was just stretched and strained, so he had stretched his long, elegant frame out one last time, and let go. After cradling his body, I wrapped him in a blanket and laid him back down where I had found him. While I changed the litter box and water for his brother, and took a drive to get a bag of ice, I let his brother Loki sniff and examine him. Then for one last time, I held his paw, now cold, and cried my eyes out, before covering his head with the blanket.

That first night was horrible. I had spent nearly all my extra income trying to turn his health around, so I to put him on ice in a cooler until the Humane Society cremation service opened up the next morning. I have cried more in the last two days than in the previous two years, at least. My first real feeling of serenity came when I picked up his ashes and placed them before the Buddha in my living room. At a time that I do not yet know, in a place yet to be determined, I will scatter his ashes. For now I am gathering up my pictures and I plan to go to a support group here in Portland the next time they meet. And I am keeping company with Loki, a gentle giant of a cat who I know senses the absence in his own way as much as I do.

I am so sorry for the loss of your baby. He looks just like my Tang. I too know the heartbreak of a crippling disease that affects your very best fur friend in the world. I lost my Thomas after a 4 year battle with diabetes 12/08/2010 - I came home from work to find him on the bathroom floor. I too spent every last dime trying to turn it around with all the same momentary glimmers of hope to no avail. My condolences are all I can offer, as I am not so good with words as the other wonderful people here are. Know that I feel your pain and hope the days ahead will offer some small comfort in knowing that he loved you and that he knows that you will love and cherish him always.

Hi, Chris. I am so, so sorry for your loss of your precious baby. I lost my best friend kitty three weeks ago to chronic renal failure, and I cried when I read your post because I could completely relate to being that deeply connected - Ollie was seriously always with me, and his absence is overwhelming. My days feel so empty without all of those special moments you mentioned.

Kidney disease is so hard...it's such a roller coaster of being absolutely elated when things look like they might be turning around and being absolutely crushed when things aren't going well. I lived in constant fear of losing Ollie. I would be so incredibly happy when he was doing well and totally in despair with every setback. Eventually, his little body just couldn't hang on any longer, but it was still such a horrible shock when it happened. I still have Ollie's sister Pooky, and I am so grateful, but like your Loki, she is grieving in her own way, too, and I feel so bad for her.

I'm sorry I don't really have any good advice...I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am that you have had to go through this and that many of us here know what you're going through and want to try to help in any way that we can. I can tell from your words that you really, really loved your little guy and would have done anything for him.

I will keep you and Loki in my thoughts and prayers, Chris. Please take good care of yourself, and let us know if there's anything we can do.

Love,
Terri

Thanks Tom's Dad.

I read your posts about Tang, and a lot of how you describe him reminds me of Zamba, so sweet and sensitive, quick and agile. It puts a smile on my face to think that across the country there is a kindred spirit who has found a good home. May he live many happy years!

Ollie's Mama, Thanks for your kind words.
It was only in the last couple weeks that we identified the kidney disease. His condition had some paradoxical complications, so we initially put all our attention on the lower urinary tract when it was the kidneys that were the real problem. I was willing to care for him as long as he would stay with me. Honestly my first feeling when I found him Saturday was that I'd been cheated by fate, right when we had gotten on the right track.

I think we try to do our best within our means for our kids, human or otherwise. There is a lot of second guessing I've gone through, mainly that I didn't catch the early signs of Zamba's illness or think they were cause for much concern until the condition was pretty advanced. He was losing some weight - I just thought he was getting tired of his food so I tried feeding him something new. He was going to the litter box more, it was so gradual that I barely noticed and blew it off when I did. Litter was sticking to his feet, which I later discovered is a sign of dehydration. Even when he started peeing on the bathroom floor and it had a tinge of blood, I dallied a week in wishful thinking hoping the symptom would just go away.

Prior to this, his health had been perfect apart from a couple episodes of fleas.

Reason tells me that most of these things were not something I could be expected to know, not having had prior experience with this kind of thing or being an expert on animal health. And they do such a good job of acting happy and content as if nothing is wrong. I don't feel a lot of guilt, thankfully, but something like it, a lot of "if only's". Above all I feel bad that I wasn't taking him to the vet at least once a year. The first thing I have resolved as a result of this is to be more proactive with Loki's health - though I know there are limits to what I can do, regardless.
Though there are regrets, in this last month I did everything in my power, and it's not clear that acting earlier would have made much difference.

Hi, Chris, please permit me to add my sincerset sympathies in the loss of your precious Dzambala. Losing a beloved companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we have been blessed with the privilege of their company.

Chris, part of this grief journey includes the "looking back" - - and the "what ifs" that are a part of it. The good news is that as the deep grief eases our hearts can embrace what our minds know beyond all shadow of a doubt - - that we did the absolute best we could for our beloved companions at all times and in all circumstances. And you are so very right about how effectively our beloved companions disguise how they are really feeling physically - - it's part of their survival skills inherited from their wild cousins. Of course this doesn't help US - - their earthly caregivers - - because we can't talk to them in a common language whereby they can tell us "mom / dad, I don't feel good - - - it hurts here, I have a sore throat, etc." so that we can take them to their doctor and get them the medical help they need BEFORE things progress to a critical state. But because their bodies are smaller than ours - - even the Great Danes and Clydesdale Horses - - when illness / traumatic injury does happen - - it makes their survival more tenuous.

So, Chris, I hope and pray that you will find peace and comfort in your heart that you did everything within your power for your precious Dzambala - - and that your precious Dzambala is forever grateful to you for being his earthly caregiver. The love bond that you and your precious Dzambala share is eternal, Chris - - it is not limited to the physical laws of time and space. His sweet Living Spirit is forever with you in your heart and your memories, and he continues to share your earthly journey just as he always has and always will.

Chris, thank you so very much for sharing your precious Dzambala with us. I hope life is treating you and your little Loki kindly. Please know you and your little Loki are in my thoughts and prayers, Chris, and look forward to knowing how you both are doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

ChrisL, I am so very sorry for your loss. Dzambala is very sweet in the pic and I know too well what you are experiencing. I lost my beloved little dog, Abby, at 16 1/2 years old and she'd been my baby since she was 8 weeks old. I also know the feeling of spending your last dime trying to make them better. Abby had been battling cushing's disease since 2008. She passed away with me by her side on May 4th.

The first few days, weeks were gut wrenching but I promise you the overwhelming pain does become manageable at some point. Time is an amazing healer. We'll never get over our loss but we do learn to live in our new reality.

My heart goes out to you and I want you to know that this site and the people here are so very compassionate and caring. This site was a huge help for me and I hope it will be for you too. You are not alone. Everyone here is going through or has been through a loss like yours and we understand how devastating it is.

May you find some peace soon,
Abby's and Bailey's Mom

Dear ChrisL I am so so sorry for your loss, those words seem so inadequate, my heart really goes out to you. I lost my best friend girl cat (actually more than best friend, a little piece of me) a month and a half ago, she was diagnosed with cancer a year ago, we thought we were on top of that but then the cancer meds destroyed her kidneys and we lost her in a week - I just didn't realise her kidneys were so bad, I know now that some of the symptoms I was seeing were the onset of renal failure but at the time I thought it was related to the cancer...It's so very very hard to lose your friend like this, please know that I am thinking of you and your Loki - I hope you find some comfort in each other, and that the universe is kind to you today.

moon_beam, Abby's Mom, leejaye, thank you all very much. Knowing there are others who have known this kind of grief and have gotten through is a great comfort.

I wanted to share this pic from about a year ago with Dzambala on the left, in the fulness of health and, on the right, I introduce to you Loki. He's always got this guilty, "who, me?" look on his face. About half the time, he has just made some kind of trouble, so it's appropriate. I had no idea when my ex named him how appropriate the name of the trickster god Loki would turn out to be. He's just a clown though. At 20 pounds, he also makes a good pillow. He is fortunately in great health now and about to turn 6 in a month.

Hey ChrisL What a gorgeous pair of cats!!! Loki definitely looks like he was named appropriately, hope you and your trickster make each other smile today, even if it is through tears.

Hello ChrisL

First, let me join the words of the others in expressing my sincere condolences to you on the loss of your Dzammie cat. I simled at all the names you'd given her ... I did that too with my Gretta (the kindest chocolate lab who ever lived). I called it name drift: I don't think I called her Gretta more than a dozen times! Waggy tail, Gretzky, Mr waggy Tail, baby face, and the last one: Dude. How much I understand the shock and pain of having a loved animal pass into the Perfect World. I think every one of us has had thought about "if only I had know how sick s/he really was." Animals have that extraordinary talent of completely hiding their illnesses. A survival thing in those bad old days of "kill or be eaten."

You are one of the rare and blessed people who have been found and visited by their soul-mate animal. From the beginning, this beautiful creature has carried a part of your soul and you have carried a part of theirs. They search for us throughout the universe until they find us, and then they put themselves in our path so we will notice them ... and when we do there's that instant rush of overwhelming love. They're sent here to guide us, teach us, nudge us onto the right path ... and most of all love us (a thousand times more than we ever love them). And it's amazing that they do most of that just by being around ... just being constant companions. They're always there, whether we can see them or not ... and this is exactly is what and where they are now ... in the Perfect World ... they can see us, hear us, put ourselves in our paths ... and love us ... same as always. We just can't see them or hear them or touch them ... and that's what hurts so D(*&T much.

Sometime they send us a couple of little signs to let them know their OK, sometimes not ... but they're always there and we WILL see them someday when we're ready and called to go there. Won't that be the most glorious day of all!

Have the best day possible!

Rufus and I send big hugs to you and Mr Purzi.

Gretta and Rufus's mom

Thank you Gretta's Mom.

A couple nights ago I noticed Loki staring intently through the kitchen and down the hallway, as if expecting someone to come from that direction. He's also going to the door more in response to any sounds from outside. Zamba used to get out from time to time, though he'd become resigned to staying in after we moved into this building and he realized that there was virtually zero chance of getting through both the apartment door and the outer entrance. But I can't help but think Loki remembers those absences from our previous residence and a part of him expects Zamba to come in through that door.

I remember worrying about Zamba when he would go on his sojourns, especially when they dragged overnight and longer on a few occasions. He had kind of a Jeckyll and Hyde split to his personality where he was the most attached, affectionate creature indoors but when he got out, he would taunt and play games when he knew I was trying to round him up. Over time I realized he would always return, that he was very cautious around traffic and wary of strangers, that he knew how to stay away from danger. But there was always a feeling of absence whenever I was at home with him away for more than a couple hours. Then I could console myself that he would probably return, and my heart would be fonder when I saw him. It was one of many ways that he wove himself into my heart so inextricably.

When I saw Loki looking with anticipation to the door, it brought back a flood of those memories, but now I know that he won't be coming back that way. I imagine him romping through the grass and weeds and chasing butterflies in a vacant lot where I can go only in my dreams.

My moods go from a little smile when I think of some of those moments, to feeling taunted by those same memories and raging at them, wanting to tear them from my memory to stop the hurt, to devastation at acknowledgment of this reality. Finally there is a melancholy serenity. It's like my mind is cycling through the classic stages of grief several times a day.

Next Tuesday I am taking Loki up to my mother's house to stay for a couple nights. She has a beautiful garden with a fish pond and a view overlooking the Columbia River. It also stays nice and cool in her house. Loki enjoys a ride in a car after the first few minutes. It will be good to take some time away from this place where there has been so much sorrow in the past month and a half.

Hi, Chris, thank you so very much for sharing with us how you and your precious Loki are doing. And thank you so very much for the wonderful picture of your precious Dzamba and Loki together.

Keep in mind that our beloved companions are more sensitive to things of a "spirit" nature than we normally are. I have seen this repeatedly in Noah and in other beloved companions I have been blessed with in my life. So your precious Loki may be sensing the "presence" of Dzamba as he comes to visit. It's just a thought, and I hope it brings you some comfort and encouragement.

This grief journey is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride, and what you describe is very normal. I wish there were an easier way through this journey, and if I knew one I most certainly would share it with you, and our friends here. Unfortunately, this journey can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, - - healing time.

I'm glad you and your precious little Loki are going to visit your mom. Sometimes a change of scenery helps. And your beloved Dzamba will be joining you and Loki - - for he is now sharing your earthly journey in "real time" - - he no longer has to wait for you to come back home to share your news of the day's events - - he is now with you wherever you are and whatever you do.

Chris, thank you again so very much for sharing with us how your little Loki are doing. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and look foward to knowing how you're doing. And I hope your travels next Tuesday will be safe and enjoyable.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thanks again, moon_beam

Today marked one week without Dzambala. In the last couple days, the near-constant despair has lightened quite a bit. One thing that was most helpful was getting a card from my vet, with personal notes from her and from several of the techs and desk staff who had known him.

I also visited the Humane Society shelter, and spent some time looking at all the cats. It is way too soon for me to adopt someone new, but I figured it couldn't hurt to take a look. I had already looked at pictures on the website, so there were a few I wanted to see in person. So there was this scrappy, skinny red tabby named Wheatie, and he gave me a long stare. So I gave 30 bucks to sponsor him in Dzambala's honor.

I am doing far better at this point than I expected, given how close Dzamba and I were. I am being attentive to my feelings to make sure I'm not suppressing things. I expect the sadness to come and go, but I know I will be fine, and so will Loki. And after my living situation and finances get squared away, probably in the Fall, I will be ready to welcome some as-yet-unknown new friend.

Hi, Chris, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Dzambala is very proud of you for sponsoring Wheatie in his honor. It is a wonderful way to honor the eternal love bond you and Dzambala share. And in time - - your own time - - you will know what it is appropriate for you to embrace a new companion into your heart and home.

Chris, I hope today is being kind to you, and that you are having a peaceful holiday weekend. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Chris, and look forward to knowing how things are going for you.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

It kind of an odd feeling, but I find myself somewhat relieved that Dzamba is not around tonight. In his condition, and as sensitive as he was he would have been utterly miserable with the terror of all the noise tonight on top of his other symptoms. Of course, in the best of all worlds he would still be here and not be sick, but that's not this one.

Loki is such a chill cat. He only gets a little startled by the loudest of booms, even with the windows in the apartment wide open. Which is good because with no AC it got up into the mid 80s inside today and will take all night to cool back to full comfort level. The heat would not have done Dzamba any favors either, he checked out just in time to miss suffering through that this year.

I finally got a tribute poem written, but I'm not sure it's quite right yet. I'll post it somewhere on the site, either here or on the tribute forum, when I decide it is sufficiently polished.

It will be interesting to see how Loki takes to my mom's house tomorrow. I may end up having to stay with her for 4 to 6 weeks toward the end of the summer until school starts back up if I don't find a job in the next 6 weeks, so hopefully he enjoys it. These next few months are going to be a tough transition period, feel like I'm crossing a rickety bridge over roaring rapids, but I do have my safety tethers.

Hi, Chris. I just wanted to let you know that I've been thinking of you and Loki. Thank you so much for the updates and for the photo! I'll write more later - hugs to you and Loki!

Love,
Terri

"It kind of an odd feeling, but I find myself somewhat relieved that Dzamba is not around tonight. In his condition, and as sensitive as he was he would have been utterly miserable with the terror of all the noise tonight on top of his other symptoms . . . he checked out just in time to miss suffering through that this year."

Hi, Chris, thank you so much for sharing with us how you and your precious Loki are doing. I can so relate to how you're feeling, as I felt the same way about my Oslo. Within two weeks of his joing the angels our weather here in Virginia turned very cold and then we had snow - - more snow - deep snow - - than we had ever had during the 11 years and 2 weeks Oslo and I shared our earthly journey. There was no way he would ever have been able to endure that bitter cold and deep snow. And then there was last summer - - his first summer of not being here physically - - and once again it was the hottest summer on record. I mean 100 plus degree temperatures with 100 plus degree heat indicies - - for MONTHS - - no rain - - not one drop of rain for at least 2.5 months in our region. And once again I was so very thankful that my precious boy did not have to try to contend with such bitter weather conditions of the opposite extreme.

I do so understand when you write: "Of course, in the best of all worlds he would still be here and not be sick, but that's not this one." Our earthly journey with our beloved companions is never long enough, but we are blessed with their gift of their forever love for us - - an eternal love bond that endures in our hearts and memories.

Thank you so very much for sharing with us how you're doing, Chris. I will look forward to reading your poem whenever you are ready to share it with us. Please know you and your precious Loki are in my thoughts and prayers, Chris, and look forward to knowing how you both are doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I have now re-posted my poem along with the picture of the memorial glass talisman in the Pet Memorials, Tributes, and Eulogies section
Here: Sunset Elegy, In Remembrance of Dzambala

I had the weirdest dream two nights ago. Dzambala was in it. I was fussing over him, thinking "he needs to eat, he's starving." I looked back and he had turned into a fish, flopping around out of water, but somehow I knew that he would be alright as soon as I got him to water.

It's ironic that his most serious symptom during his last weeks was dehydration.

Either I am going to get a fish or scatter his ashes on water, maybe both...

Hi, Chris, thank you for sharing with us how you're doing. Dreams can be very symbolic of what is on our minds and in our hearts. Scieintific studies are constantly going on with sleep and dream studies in an attempt to understand how the brain functions and the significance of dreams. While the "scientific studies" are still a work in progress, we KNOW what most of our dreams "mean" without the assistance of "rocket science."

I thank you, Chris, for sharing with us how you're doing. I hope today is being kind to you and Loki. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, Chris, and look forward to knowing how things are going for you and your precious Loki.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Chris, reading your story about how close you and your kitty were brought tears to my eyes. I could have typed the exact same thing about my Chessa, who died on July 19th. She too had kidney disease, and she was barely 9 years old. I am now lost without my constant companion, even though I have 2 other cats as well. In fact, your kitty looks just like one of mine!

I'm glad to hear you are coming through the grief well. It gives me hope for the future...

Some of the rawer feelings on Dzambala's death are starting to come out in weird ways. I had a dream last night of which I don't remember much detail other than the impression that he was somewhere in my apartment, terrified and suffering, and I couldn't find him. I seem to remember at some point thinking I found him, but what looked like him was actually a demonic impostor pretending to be him. On waking, I felt a mixture of sadness that he is in fact gone, with relief that the false "other" was not there. I had to turn the lights on, take a few minutes to feel fully awake and aware of solid reality, before I felt safe to go back to sleep. Loki was sitting in the windowsill next to the bed giving me a quizzical look.

I have also been thinking a lot about a rough period in my life, my year of ill-fated attempt at grad school. I was really struggling with alcoholism at the time, and there was a point at which I considered going to inpatient rehab. My biggest point of resistance was that I was afraid that to afford it, even with insurance coverage, I'd have to give up my apartment for that month, and with it my cats, because I didn't think there was anyone to temporarily take them in. I've sometimes thought that was the point where the road diverged that led me to losing my fellowship. Somehow, I always felt it was Dzambala who needed me more - of course I would miss Loki but I've always felt he would adapt much better if for some reason he had to go to a different home. So those thoughts have been running around in my head.

I didn't really expect my grieving process to dredge up that stuff, but I guess it has its own strange logic. I am finally approaching escape velocity from the gravity of that dark time as I prepare to go back to work on my MS. I am learning, very gradually, to recognize that Dzambala was with me through that time, and stayed through the first steps of my recovery until I was clearly on the path. At the very end, when I started making material sacrifices to tend to his health, he taught me a final lesson in what matters most in life - how we love and care for those closest to us. To love and to be loved, in actions and not just words, especially when those actions are not easy.

Processing this stuff is not easy - just like any real process of learning or growth, some pain is involved. And it doesn't follow a clear, straight line. It is a winding path, but in time it leads upward.

I miss you and love you Dzamba, and will always treasure the deep and profound lessons you taught me, whether you knew it or not.

Peace,
Chris

"I didn't really expect my grieving process to dredge up that stuff, but I guess it has its own strange logic."

Hi, Chris, thank you so very much for sharing with us how you and your precious Loki are doing. Part of the grief journey is acknowledging emotions that we thought were already dealt with and resolved as well as dealing with emotions that were suppressed for whatever reason and are needing further attention - - in addition to dealing with the current roller coaster emotions of grief from the physical loss of our beloved companion - - of your beloved Dzambala. You described this grief adjustment journey very well as having "its own strange logic." I promise you, Chris, one day you will find yourself settling again into more calm "waters" instead of feeling like you're rushing the White Water on the Colorado River.

Clinical and scientific studies are continuing to try to unlock the mystery of the brain, how it works, and the significance of our dreams. There is a common "theory" that our dreams are the mind's way of trying to sort through the day's, and life's, events. You and Loki are embarking on a new journey with a move and your returning to your studies. Of course this is going to re-surface memories, and with your grief adjustment journey arouse conflicts of emotions which are played out in your dreams. I am so sorry that you had this negative dream - - and I hope you will take comfort in knowing that it is indeed just a dream. Your beloved Dzambala is very proud of your accomplishments and your resolve to continue with your studies for a Masters Degree. And your precious Loki will be by your side to remind you that "all study and no play" means that it's time for a Loki break. So, please try to put your mind at ease, Chris.

The good news is already expressed in your own words: "Processing this stuff is not easy - just like any real process of learning or growth, some pain is involved. And it doesn't follow a clear, straight line. It is a winding path, but in time it leads upward." Please know that you are not alone in your adjustment journey, Chris. We are here for you, with you, and beside you with every step you take. May you find comfort, encouragement, and hope in the words you read here.

Chris, thank you again so much for sharing with us how you and your precious Loki are doing. I hope today has been kind to you both, and that you and your precious Loki will have a very peaceful evening. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and look forward to knowing how you and your precious Loki are doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi, Chris! I have been thinking of you and Loki often but hadn't had a chance to post due to computer problems and Pooky health issues (Pooky is doing much better now, thankfully). I wanted to tell you that I had read your beautiful poem and loved it, as well as the Loki thread. Also, I can totally identify with what you're saying about the rawer feelings in the grief process coming out in bizarre ways...I, too, have been having really weird dreams about Ollie and had one really similar to yours a couple of nights ago. I dreamt that I was in a creepy house with a twisting staircase and weird things going on. I climbed up to a room higher up in the building and was scared to see the closet doors in that room opening by themselves...then Ollie hopped out of the closet! At first I was so happy to see him and cried out, "Boo-Boo!" (one of my zillion nicknames for him), but a second later I could see that he was hissing and spitting (something Ollie never, ever did to me) and was in fact NOT my Boo-Boo but some kind of "demonic imposter" just like you mentioned you saw in your dream. I woke up pretty freaked out and also had to do a quick reality check to get my bearings.

I have no idea what all of this means...just that I'm still pretty sad, I guess, and still very disturbed by the loss of my precious boy.

Thank you for your wise and eloquent words: "...he taught me a final lesson in what matters most in life - how we love and care for those closest to us. To love and to be loved, in actions and not just words, especially when those actions are not easy."

and

"Processing this stuff is not easy - just like any real process of learning or growth, some pain is involved. And it doesn't follow a clear, straight line. It is a winding path, but in time it leads upward."

It's all so true, and I will definitely remember what you said. I hope you and Loki are hanging in there - I am praying for comfort and peace for all of us. Thanks so much for keeping us updated on how you and Loki are doing.

Love,
Terri

Thank you moon beam and Terri.

There are a few thoughts I've had about that dream and its meaning. First, there is a cat in the neighborhood who I'd never seen up close but from a distance, especially at night, looks like Dzambala. Kind of a doppelganger - I've called it the "Dzamba-ganger" at times. I've only seen it once since Dzambala died, for the first time in daylight close enough to see how different it actually looks in the face. So that was floating around in my head.

Second, I still look pretty frequently at cats on the Oregon Humane Society site. It serves some kind of purpose even though I doubt I will adopt another cat for some time. (By the way, I'm happy to report that Wheatie, the cat I sponsored, was adopted a couple weeks ago). I was looking at that right before bed, and there was one in particular that really was almost identical to Dzambala as a kitten.

The final part is that of course a part of me is still looking for Dzambala, just like when Loki looks in Dzambala's favorite cave under the chair. This part of my mind is not fully conscious, and is certainly not rational - it doesn't understand time, only stored impressions. Totally to be expected - from time to time I still have dreams with my grandfather in them where there's no question that he's still alive, or it turns out to have been some kind of mistake, eight years after his passing.

Along with that, those last several weeks were almost fully consumed with tending to him, preoccupied just about every waking minute with worrying, researching, trying to feed him, watching him in the litter box, talking to vets, and on and on. If anything, I should be surprised that those impulses don't show up even more often.

I just had a vision of Dzambala pop into my head. My grandmother is sitting in her armchair working her crossword puzzle, and he is sleeping in her lap. They never met in this world, but I got the feeling that on some other plane, she took him in when he came calling at her kitchen door. Right after this came to mind, I looked at the date and remembered that it is near the 4 year anniversary of my grandmother's passing. Saturday, to be exact.

Hi, Chris, what a beautiful vision of your beloved Dzambala and your grandmother together. There is no doubt in my mind that this their way of letting you know that they are together, everything is fine. I hope this brings comfort to you, Chris, and a great big warm smile to your heart.

I hope today is treating you and your precious Loki kindly, Chris. Please know you and your precious Loki are in my thoughts and prayers, and look forward to knowing how you both are doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hey Chris, Dzambala and your grandmother - a beautiful image, I hope it brought you some comfort after your subconscious threw those other dreams at you...hope you have a great day Leejaye

Dzamba,
I started crying for you today for the first time in weeks. Life is changing so fast for me and Loki, we are getting a better place, I am starting to do the work that fascinates me, and so much stress I've been carrying around for a long time is dropping away. How much I wish you were still here to enjoy this happier life with us! I miss you so much, my face aches where you used to nuzzle and head bump me. Your talkative little voice still echoes in my head, your liger coat and golden eyes still haunt me from the corners of my eyes. Such a pure soul, you deserved so much more time than 7 years. I still wish I'd acted quicker when you started getting sick, but you know I did everything I could. I can't think of anything else but to put up the song I played when you left.

"Pictures of Matchstick Men" written by Status Quo, as performed by Camper Van Beethoven


When I look up to the sky
I see your eyes, a funny kind of yellow
Rush home to bed, I soak my head
I see your face underneath my pillow
I wake next morning, I'm still yawning
I see your face looking through my window
Pictures of matchstick men and you
Images of matchstick men and you
Alls I ever see is them and you
Windows echo your reflection
When I look in their direction, now
There're faces haunting me
Your face just won't leave me alone
Pictures of matchstick men and you
Images of matchstick men and you
Alls I ever see is them and you
You're in the sky
You're with the sky
You make men cry
You are, you're in the sky
You're with the sky
You make men cry
Pictures of matchstick men . . .


Love forever,
Your daddy

"How much I wish you were still here to enjoy this happier life with us!"

Hi, Chris, thank you so much for sharing with us how you and your precious Loki are doing. I know it isn't the same - - but your beloved Dzambala is still with you continuing to share your earthly journey just as he always has and always will. We live in a physical oriented world - - sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste. When our beloved companions precede us to the angels it's a very difficult transition to adjust our physical lives to their physical absence. But our beloved companions are more to us than a physical presence - - they are part of our very soul -- our very existence - - and even though your beloved Dzamabala is not with you physically he is very much with you in your heart and your memories. As long as he is there - - which will be forever - - - he continues to share your earthly journey just as he always has and always will. He is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I hope you and your precious Loki will have a peaceful evening, Chris, blessed with your beloved Dzambala's sweet Living Spirit to comfort and cheer you. Please know you and your precious Loki are in my thoughts and prayers, and look forward to knowing how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Chris, Thanks for sharing your note to Dzambala, I can only imagine what a bitter sweet time this is for you - you and Loki are moving ahead, life is changing for the better, but your trio has become a duo. I believe our animal friends live on in our memories and soul, and in the way we live our lives after they are gone - we honour them continually and make them a part of us forever when we live out the gifts they bestowed and the truths they taught us...sending you wishes for a moment of peace, Leejaye

Thanks moon_beam and leejaye.

It really is amazing how those feelings can come up at any time, after a while of not having them in the forefront. And they are still as powerful. But leejaye, you hit it on the head in describing it as bittersweet. There is a little bit more sweetness in the tears as time goes by as opposed to the pure bitterness of the first few days.

All this was prompted because I was thinking about getting a letter of recommendation from one of my professors. Then I remembered that I had made a pretty weak last impression by bombing the final exam (luckily I had aced everything before that, so it didn't ruin my A in the course). The reason why I was unprepared and unfocused for that exam, was of course that it was during the midst of Dzambala's decline. I spent a night I might have otherwise been studying for it reading up on treatments for bladder stones. So my head was full of that, along with all-consuming anxiety to get home and check on him, instead of digital electronics. Anyhow, just thought I'd share that as an example of how triggers of grief can crop up in the most seemingly unrelated places.

I had a little bit of the same feelings earlier today when I loaded some old photos from my phone onto my computer and saw them full size for the first time. This one, in particular, of Loki helping care for his brother, really broke my heart.

Hi, Chris, yes - - I know how those "out of the blue" lightning bolts of grief can hit us and pierce us through the heart like a sword as though our beloved companions transition to the angels is happening in real time. It is perfectly understandable that your heart and thoughts would be focused on your beloved Dzambala instead of the topic of your exam. Grief is grief, Chris - - Anticipatory Grief has its own horror roller coaster ride of emotions - - a "preview" of the deep grief adjustment journey.

I hope you are able to talk to your professor and that he / she will be happy to offer you a good recommendation. If the topic arises as to why you did poorly on your exam, perhaps you can share that a very dear friend of yours was terminally ill and you were focused on helping him. You don't have to share anything more than that, because - - - your professor may not be supportive if full disclosure were made, and full disclosure isn't necessary or mandatory. You are entitled to your privacy, Chris.

Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful picture of your precious Loki and beloved Dzambala with us. Your Dzambala is blessed to have a loving brother in Loki, and a wonderful Forever Dad in you.

I hope this evening is being kind to you and Loki. Pretty soon, if not already, you will be moving into your new quarters, and your beloved Dzambala is going to be right with you and Loki all the way. I wish you could see me smiling at that thought, and more importantly, I hope this brings a smile to your heart. Please know you and your precious Loki are in my thoughts and prayers, and look forward to knowing how you and your little Loki are doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Chris, Thanks for the beautiful photo - I see entirely why it might bring tears, especially if the grief had already ambushed you. Sending you wishes for a moment of peace with Dzamba's memory Leejaye

So the neighborhood cat that looks like Dzambala came over again this morning. This time he (I think it's a boy from the behavior) came all the way up on the porch and started rolling over for belly rubs. Because he's visited me on two consecutive Friday mornings, that is what I've nicknamed him - Friday. He looks like he's well kept from his coat and weight, but doesn't have a tag. Hopefully he is smart about cars because there are a lot of speeding idiots on this street. I'll have to avoid getting his attention when he is across the street so he doesn't run across on my account.

Hi, Chris, how so very special that Friday comes to visit you, and feels so comfortable allowing you to give him tummy rubs. Be in this prone position is a certain indication of ultimate trust, so you should feel very honored. I'm sure Dzambala is helping Friday to know that he has a very good friend in his new neighbor.

I hope today is being kind to you, Chris, and that you and your precious Loki will have a very pleasant and peaceful weekend. Please know you and your boy Loki are in my thoughts and prayers, and always look forward to sharing your news.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Chris, Very cool that Friday has chosen to visit - like you, i hope he's careful with the traffic! hope life is moving nicely for you, Leejaye

Hi, Chris, stopping by to say hello to you and your precious Loki. Am wondering how your holidays were, and how your studies are going. Any word on the results of last semester's tests / exams / projects? Just want you to know you are in my thoughts and prayers that life is treaing you and your precious Loki kindly.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi All, it's been quite a while.

While cleaning out the cat carrier today, a piece of tape with "Dzambala Leishman" written on it, that is usually out of view, struck my eye. I'd been meaning to post in remembrance of one year without him, and this reminded me.

Dzamba,
I know you now are in the great unknown, but I also know that you are making yourself known through your brother Loki.The way we have bonded, it is almost like I have the two of you in one physical presence now. I still get jabs of heartache when I am reminded of your name or look back over the past few years and can't avoid going through that last couple months of your life with me, or when I see another warm-colored cat. In living, you kept my hope alive, and in your dying, you sparked my heart to once again feel true compassion and opened my eyes to a new clarity of what is really important - love and kindness, playfulness and presence.

I will always remember,
C

Hello Chris

So happy to hear that Zamba has visited you in a dream. All of these dreams are signals from our beloveds that they are alive and OK. The fish needs water part probably is your brain sorting out images of Zamba - and there must be lots of them about dehydration. But know that beautifl, golden-eyed Zamba IS alive and well and want you to know that.

Have a cool day wherever you are.

Gretta's mom

Hi, Chris, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and for sharing your beautiful love letter to your beloved Dzambala. Coming across items as simple as a name tag can bring to the surface many different emotions all bundled in the protective embrace of eternal love.

You have been in my thoughts and prayers through recent days. Thank you again for sharing your and your beloved Dzambala's "angel-versary with us. I hope today is treating you and your precious Loki kindly, Chris. Please know you are in my thougths and prayers, and that I always look forward to knowing how you and your precious Loki are doing, and to sharing your treasured memories of your beloved Dzambala.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam