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Posted by Dread God of Continuity on Thursday, August 28 2003 at 12:01AM
Well now, if this isn't a cheap appeal for popularity, I don't know what is. I figure many RPGers will be thrilled with Squall's demise. See if you can identify all the RPG characters applying for the job as Fantasy Qwest hero. First person to email me at dreadgodofcontinuity@comic.com with the identity of all the applying characters in this comic wins a free prize (the nature of which I shall decide upon later.)
By the by, Authorman has decided to wait until the end of the NFL preseason to offer his picks. Too many players, like Michael Vick and Chad Pennington, had gotten hurt and drastically affected the potential playoff picture. Still look forward to it, I command! DGC out. |
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Posted by Dread God of Continuity on Saturday, August 30 2003 at 2:08AM
My little girl's gone. My Runty is dead.
Fourteen years. Fourteen years is a long time for a cat to live, a good long life by any standard. Yet, I wish that I still had more of those days, still could see her and play with her, pet her and get my fingers licked by her. Fourteen years seems like so short a time right now. She had been sick for a while, slowing down from the ravages of old age. Recently, we got a new kitten, Rocky, whose presence upset her so. This was nothing new; cats tend to be upset by the appearance of new feline household members. When she started refusing to come in, and then to eat, we figured it was because of this. Finally, Tuesday night I caught her outside and brought her in for the first time in two weeks. She barely ate anything, aside from some milk I gave her. She looked so weak, so thin. The next day she was even worse, lying there barely moving. Occasionally she would mew pitifully; she was in such obvious pain. I have never before seen a cat in such bad shape before. The next day we took her to the vet, knowing that most likely it would be her last trip. She was the best behaved on a car trip she had even been on that final trip. The vet's prognosis was terminal; both her kidneys had failed, and she had an inch-long tumor in her intestine. No matter what, she would be dead within a week. We decided to put her down. I held her as she went to sleep for the last time. I will never forget holding my dear cat, like she had never let me hold her before, as she passed into her final rest. I did not stay for the last injection. Her last night, she came to me. She came and curled up next to me, and I pet her as she purred quietly. I am so grateful for that night. Most cats disappear when they die, eaten by wild animals or flattened by traffic. The one other cat that had to be put down, Bonnie died while I was away, ironically enough on my birthday. With my dearest Runty I had the most-precious chance to say goodbye. I will always remember my dearest Runt. I remember when she was born, within our house, to our cat Oren who we had just adopted. She was born in a broken-down organ we had in the basement. I remember her curling up as a kitten with her sister Cleo, while her brother Puff was left by himself. I remember Cleo and Runty playing with each other as kittens, but staying away from their giant brother. Puff was a huge cat even as a kitten. We never did learn how large he would have become, for he was hit by a car right outside our house before his first birthday. Cleo and Runty would stay throughout their lives exceptionally close. I saw them do things that house cats supposedly never do, like hunt cooperatively. Cleo would stare down other cats while Runty came around and flanked them. The two of them were incredible together. Sadly Cleo disappeared a year ago almost to the day, about a month after her mother Oren also disappeared. All four cats, Oren, Puff, Cleo, and Runty, had incredibly soft fur, the best fur I have ever felt on cats. Runty was also the poster cat for the term "scaredy-cat". I have never seen in my life a more cowardly cat. She could run like the wind when she was scared, which was very often. I remember her on two separate occasions panicking and turning to run, only to run headfirst and top speed straight into a wall! She would hide whenever company came over, or whenever she THOUGHT company might come over. She was also ruthless if she wanted something while I was sleeping. She would chew my fingers to get me up, and she wouldn't give up. She would go after anything I left exposed, so that to avoid her I would have to hide completely under my covers to avoid her. Even them I could always hear her prowling outside, with a purr that reminded me of the theme from "Jaws". Runty was particularly special to me for two reasons. One was because she was the cat I "tamed." When she was a really little kitten, my little brother (who was only 3 at the time) discovered our new kittens. Yelling out "KITTENS!" delightedly, he flung Runty across the room and into a wooden table leg. From then on she hid from people like they had the plague. I was the one who coaxed Runty out of hiding, who convinced her to trust people again. The long time spent doing this built the bond that lasted until her death. She also was the last surviving cat from the time before I went to college, from an older, simpler time. Of our other two cats right now, Misty was gotten and grew up while I was mostly away (he's 2 now), and Rocky is two months old. Runty was one of my last connections to a lost world, to this place, one of my last roots now uprooted. As I write this I look back at my bed, and a wave of sadness comes over me as I realize the orange cat I have become accustomed to seeing behind me, to be waiting for me to pet and play with her, is not there, will never be there ever again. The pain is almost unbearable, but bear it I shall, so what is life but suffering? I shall miss my dearest Runt like I miss all the ones I have lost over the years. I shall miss her more than most. When I drove again past the veterinarian where Runty drew her last breath, I was overcome with an awesome feeling of contentment. I am thrilled that she is forever free of her pain, but wish I could still see her, hold her, pet her. I shall never forget my dearest Runt. A Jama Iluvienos Runty. ASW (DGC) out. |
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