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I felt strongly that I needed to post this tonight. In an earlier post, I told of the adventures of rescuing a tiny mongoose baby, after one of our younger cats brought him (dropped him, lovingly) into my place.
After posting the video of him on 6-25, the next day we went to Java on the Rock, where G and I held him often, she (G) in a private, but very warm and secure, area. At that time, I got the name for him of "Stich", from the movie, "Lilo and Stich". Just seemed right.
That morning he seemed a bit more sluggish, then later in the day he became more and more quiet.
I held him in my hand much of the evening, and into the very early morning, where he became almost still. But his tail still moved. I put him to bed, and I went to bed, and in the morning, I found he was motionless. He had passed to the other side.
So I made the memorial (above left) for him, and then went and buried his body under some flowers, by our private drive. Here's a photo of that.
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When I was making the memorial, was when the tears came on strong. It was wonderful how such a tiny being would come into my life and be so dependent on me for its care. But I would not let him be alone when he passed. Or in the cold, bleeding, potential food for worms. No.
So I guess his passing away while he was in my hands was exactly how I envisioned it, if that had to happen. Stich would chirp (squeak?) in a mousy kind of way, and it was a great joy to have him climb up my fingers and drink his milk from my dropper (goats milk).
G wanted to name him "Joy". So I called him, "Stich of Joy". And that's what he will always be for me. (and G)
Aloha, Stich... I have to go cry again...
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