Thank you thank you thank you from Percy, Janos, me and the fur kids, for
all your kind thoughts and hopes and wishes and prayers. Percy's little
service will probably be tonight. I'm still too tired/worn out/close to the
time to type up the medical aspects of our loss. Perhaps tomorrow.
I've written a lot of people directly, thank yous, but not all. It's been
kind of random, so forgive me if I haven't thanked you directly. Know that
each and every message has become a little unique chink in a bridge to our
healing.
I wrote a little poem to Percy for the service (and a really long, rambly
one for our family, which I won't! include). Not my greatest treatise;
better poetry for me is dictated from above and within, but I sat down today
and knew I needed to write for Percy's service tonight...
"Percy, Were you Watching"
Percy were you watching,
when the troops lined up to say
goodbye
To your sweetly curled body
in the living room did lie
Your carrying case stood nie --
-- Ferryberry Lane, Gadzooks first home --
where Wally and Gadzook retreated
and Wally's historic guard, stood
Wally draped himself on Gadzee
and let no one come in
Each other fuzzy appeared,
was repulsed,
With a scream and a lunge
or, for the more persistent,
from your fighting, did run
Tarzan brought the favorite rubber
beach ball, dropped
humbly at Wally's feet
and snuck in
But when he went to hide
it, again, upon returning
was not allowed in
You, Wally, fought everybody off
prtecting your Gadzook
in Ferry Berry Lane
One amazing fuzzy's tribute
to one amazing lost, best buddy
Percy Fergus Ferguson,
Your friend, no longer in pain
We had the service tonight. We have a low table in front of the living room
couch. Percy lay there, in a box with two sweet pictures with his three
best buddies, his beloved small rubber saddle, and a blanket I made for
Squeekers (who some of you remember) with big red hearts. Mr. Percy had a
strange passion for rubber saddles (so we're not unique animals in our
quirks). We asked Wally, his best buddy, if he wanted the saddle, and
offered it to him, but he gave it a distinct nose nudge out from the
carrying case where he has been sleeping all day. In preparing the box (his
sweet vet sent him home in, so sweetly curled), which the gang had explored,
I found a tiny bit of green pepper Gadzee put in the box earlier. We put
blankies and a towel (Percy's fallish color shade, as he was gorgeously
ruddy shaded) to pad the trip.
Our backyard cemetary holds Schroedee Boat, Squeekers, Squeeker's three
neural tube siblings, and now Percy. It's getting big, and Janos had to dig
a pretty, white foxglove (with multiple blooms; they are beautiful) out. I,
the garderner, had a hunch this would happen, and said we would just plant
it right back above Percy. I love the white foxgloves, and have a seed pack
of peach foxgloves that will be beautiful. Janos broke the seeding bloom
off as he replanted the plant, but that's just what gardening, and life, is
about, and I propped it right up with a stick and twisties.
But Tarzee was the star of the service. Inside, while I was reading poems,
he jumped thrice from the couch onto the table, and I caught him before he
hit the candles. He tried to nudge Percy's box open many times. He
insisted to go out when we were burying Percy, so I carried him out. Our
yard has a very short fence (lining the laurel hedge and other fences) all
around, so is semi-semi ferret proofed, and he ran about while Janos buried
Percy and I watched the service and Tarzee. He went back behind the compost
barrel somewhere and came out with a very odd branch stuck on his head
around his eyes, and he danced and danced around the flower beds, running
madly. It was a marevelous Dionysian dance for Percy. Of course I chased
him to remove it, but he got it off first.
Sweet tributes to Percy, and to the world of animals, of which we're just
one fuzzyish part, though we forget,
And to our fuzzies in the stars,
Lynn
[Posted in FML issue 1990]
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