Dejah Thoris Burroughs Carter Hoyt, June 12 1989 – June 8 2009
She was the cutest ball of fur you ever saw. For reasons that would take too long to explain, Dan and I broke into the sun room where she was locked — away from her mom. I think she was maybe four weeks old, all fluff and meows.
We bottle raised her and her two brothers — not easy since I had a full time job as a translator at the time. I always thought it was because of that that she was a little shy. Not socialized enough. Didn’t like being held. However when Dan lay down on the floor to read, she would climb between his shoulder blades and fall asleep.
When we put wood down in the hallway of the house in Charlotte, she escaped from where we had her locked up and hid under the neighbor’s porch for two days, refusing to come out. Dan had to go under there to get her. The fit was so tight, he had to strip to his underwear to get her.
As she became tamer with time, Dan was her special person. She used to sit on the bed, on my side, and give me dirty looks when I came to bed, because I was clearly a third wheel.
When we moved from Charlotte, for various reasons, (mostly renting) the cats ended up outdoors. DT took up hunting. She could bring down anything, from rabbits to birds. In Columbia, SC she got me involved with raptor rescue by bringing down a hawk (I think) that we then nursed to health. This while she had a bell on.
When we lived in Manitou Springs and traveled a lot, we boarded the cats while we were gone. If DT got wind she was going to be boarded, she’d run all over the neighborhood to avoid us. More than once we left on vacation and left instructions with our friend Charles to the tune of "When she comes to eat, grab her and take her to the vet for boarding." By this time, we’d have had them indoors only, but her friends, Pete and Randy liked being outdoors and so she did too. If we tried to bring her in she’d cry her heart out to join them.
She was the youngest of the first batch of our cats and answered to ‘baby girl" as readilly as to "DT". She always answerd to Dan, no matter what he called her, though.
When first Randy then Pete died, we brought DT and Pixie inside. She was Pixie’s best friend, comforter and nurse as he declined and died, four years ago. I don’t care what animal experts say, she missed him till today.
If she loved you, she groomed you — usually wildly. We called it "hair by DT" when she licked your hair so it was all at odd angles. If you weren’t feeling well, she crawled in bed with you and did this. Lately she was afraid one of us would think she didn’t love us. She’d walk between us, licking one and then the next.
She’s had diabetes for six months, and we’ve been giving her insulin morning and night. When she seized twice last week while I was away, we thought it was the diabetes. But when I came home on Friday she couldn’t close her mouth and had bloody drool. I thought "tooth. It has to be tooth." But we took her in today, and it turned out she had cancer of the jaw which mestatized all over her lungs and spine. She was in pain and she was only going to get worse. This cancer was very aggressive. It couldn’t have been there more than two weeks.
We did what we had to do.
At times like this, I wish I had more faith in a life after this. I believe there is a G-d, but that doesn’t necessarily imply a belief in the after life.
Heinlein said it’s entirely possible normal people die and disappear forever, but not "saints". Well, I don’t know about saints. And I know every theology is fuzzy on the afterlife of cats.
But tonight I want to believe there is a rainbow bridge and that she’s there, with Pete and Pixel, all of them young and hale again, waiting for us. Until we meet again.
According To Hoyt 
I know I am a total stranger, but please accept the condolences of this fellow cat lover and Heinlein fan. I too hope there is a Rainbow Bridge.
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I’m sure they’re waiting. It’s been over 15 years since I said goodbye to the cross-eyed 19 year old Siamese who had owned me all her life, and she still drops in on my dreams, or I’ll feel a cat land on the bed and reach out to snuggle and there won’t actually be a cat there.
I don’t care what the explanation is, that’s what it feels like. They’re watching, and they’re waiting for us to show up and join them.
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Oh, of course there’s a rainbow bridge! No god worth his or her salt would exclude animals — and if he/she did, then that’s a god not worth believing in.
Nicky and I (and the two greyhounds) send our sincere condolences.
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So very sorry. It’s the great grief of loving animals–that their lives are so short compared to ours. As for an afterlife, I too am not religious, but am utterly convinced that nothing loved so well can be erased.
I’ve had beloved dogs and occasionally I dream of them in strange and wonderful places, playing with each other, with other dogs they never knew in life. The dreams are very vivid and real, and I like to believe that it’s really what they’re doing now.
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Pets
They give and receive love.T hey always are missed when they leave us.
Tom Monaghan
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My condolences on your loss. In such a short time, they teach us so much.
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My deepest sympathy to you and Dan. DT sounds like she was a wonderful kitty and quite blessed to have both of you.
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Damned blurry screen virus.
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I have perceived (for what it’s worth) the ‘soul’ of three animals (and one of them I never knew, only came across just as the half-grown pup had been hit by a car, and I and 3 or 4 others ‘saw’ the spirit depart.). Anything living has a spark of the Immortal. Our furry friends wait for us, somewhere.
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DT
I just talked to Robert. I’m so sorry. I’m glad I came over to talk to DT yesterday, Robs had warned me that although the diabetes had gone into remission, there seemed to be other serious problems. I remember when you brought her to that Mensa meeting just after you rescued her and her brothers, she was such a pretty little calico ball of fuzz. She was all cat, and a serious hunter. And, as you said to me a few weeks ago when my Scooter passed away, I want to believe in the Rainbow Bridge, and that Scooter is there with DT and your other Heinlein cats. and that someone has convincingly explained to Scooter that all other cats are not his enemies. Will help him to get along, especially if Pixel has wings.
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So sorry! It sounds like she’ll leave a little hole in your heart.
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What a beauty, and what a beautiful eulogy.
As you said, “we did what we had to do.” It is the most loving gift we can give our four-legged friends-the freedom from pain, and the quiet surcease.
And yes, they are all there waiting for you.
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You and yours are the second peoples I know this week to lose a furry one. Losing animals are hard; but when we look back and see how they have enriched our lives, it’s all worth it. I truly believe people who share their lives with animals are richer for it.
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Sympathy, even if it is from an utter stranger. And cuddles from my two sixteen-year-old boys. She was a beautiful cat on the outside, and it sounds like she lived up to it.
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On friends who go ahead
If there is any justice in creation, we shall meet again those we love.
And I believe in justice.
JJB
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Lady Bast, take DT up into Your arms. Comfort her, and restore her to youth and health. Give her rodents and birdies to chase and munch, and let her play in the grass of the Summerlands, until the time comes for her to wait on that end of the bridge, for her people.
So mote it be.
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“But tonight I want to believe there is a rainbow bridge and that she’s there, with Pete and Pixel, all of them young and hale again, waiting for us. Until we meet again.”
There is. There IS.
I have loved ones waiting there for me.
I’m so sorry. This is the heartbreak we sign on for, willingly, when we take on the sharing of a life so much shorter than our own. But I know that I would not trade one bright day of the lives I shared with the dogs and the cat who went ahead.
May your memories stay bright.
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I’m sorry, Sarah. It’s so hard to lose a friend and family member of the fuzzy kind. I do believe in an afterlife of some sort, and I like to believe that our fuzzy friends are rewarded for their unconditional and selfless love to us. At the very least, DT enjoyed a wonderful life with people who loved her. That’s big all by itself.
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I’m so sorry for your loss – she looks so floofy and pretty in that picture.
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Not only is the Rainbow Bridge real, but it’s two-way. I refuse to believe this is not so.
::HUGS:: to you all, and I’m sorry you are missing a family member.
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Life is pain..but then we’d miss the dance
They live such short lives, yet they don’t know that.
They can’t talk, but they do.
They aren’t people…and then, maybe we aren’t either.
They are covered in fur, and they love us unconditionally.
They leave holes much larger sized than they when they go.
There is a bridge.
It is made of rainbows, and connects Heaven and Earth.
There is a meadow, at the end of the bridge.
The meadow is in front of the Gates of Heaven.
In the meadow stands a man with a tonsure and a ragged robe.
He is surrounded by millions of furry children.
It is St. Frank of the Animals.
He will make sure we are reunited when we come there.
The list of absent furkids gets longer.
I know I will see them all again.
And if there are no cats or dogs in Heaven, I know where I want to go.
May the blessings of St. Frank of the Animals heal your pain.
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