Meet our furry better halves

litfan10

owner of slave_
Joined
Apr 28, 2010
Posts
12,694
I know many writers who count their furry companions as muses for their writing.

I know mine does an incredible job. She knows just which letter I should use by swatting the keyboard; when I should stop writing and spend some time contemplating my next scene by sprawling across the keyboard; when I should just type and not worry about what I just wrote by sitting right in front of my screen, and when I should get some nourishment as well as something for her.
So here it is a thread to pay homage to our furry muses.
 
From the title, I wasn't sure whether you were referring to furry erotica, which apparently sells very well on Amazon...

My companion is a dog and prefers curling up ay my feet or on a nearby sofa. I'm assuming yours is more of the feline persuasion.
 
As an early Christmas gift to slave_ We have doubled the size of our furry clan from two to four.

First is my baby and purrsonal muse: Jazz aka Jazzy or Jazzawee. I rescued Jazzy as a malnourished runt with a gimpy back paw, weeks old. She is now a twenty-three year old diva and considers herself Queen of the known universe. She "worked" (see first post) with me through the waning years of my journalist career and through all my years as an erotic writer.

For Valentine's Day almost two years ago we brought in Ashy aka Ashawee, a poor black and white tuxedo kitten that was getting bounced around home to home.

Right before Christmas slave_ went out to get a playmate for Ashy as at twenty-three, Jazz has very little interest in extended playing, getting cuddles whilst napping is much more her speed. She found two birth brother kittens about to be split up. So yup, we took them both. They are bundles of energy to the order of whirling dervish on speed. Crash is a grey striped tabby and his brother, Eddy, is a lanky black and white tuxedo.

They have two speeds - off, and can often be found sleeping with Jazz, or chaos speed at which we, Jazz and Ash just stay out of their way then pick up the detritus they leave in their wake.
 
From the title, I wasn't sure whether you were referring to furry erotica, which apparently sells very well on Amazon...

My companion is a dog and prefers curling up ay my feet or on a nearby sofa. I'm assuming yours is more of the feline persuasion.

I had an amazing Black lab during my marriage. I had her for fourteen years. Amazing and wonderful companion for my kids. I often say that I think she taught my kids more about unconditional love than anyone else.

I was born into a dog family - first a Boston Terrier then a basset-beagle.

As an adult, I've gravitated to cats.
 
I had the most beautiful smutty fawn pug, Miss Gloria G, but she died December 19th 2020. She was my heart and soul and I've been lost without her. I had her for 10 years, got her when she was around 2 or 3, she was a rescue so I'm not exactly sure.

I miss her every day. I'm not sure I'll ever be over her and get a new dog. She's buried in our backyard and every day I look out at her grave sorta thinking, maybe it was all a mistake and she's going to be sitting there thinking "why has my Merney left me outside?" (I was Merney, she was Perney, or Peeny Weeny Jeeny Beeny, or Poppy, or Teetee.)

I shut down when she died. Left all social media, deleted my account here. Honestly I still question why I'm still here and she isn't. Life without her isn't worth living, I truly miss her that much.

I understand completely; Jazz has been my constant, faithful companion for twenty-three years. She is in stage three kidney failure but our vet is optimistic that she still has a lot of life in her, but I dread the future. I know what is coming and it is going to devastate me (I have tears even typing this.)
you have my sincere condolences.
 
First thought was that you meant our spouses/erotic partners.

'How could you know?' I wondered.

Then it appeared I had misapprehended.
 
First thought was that you meant our spouses/erotic partners.

'How could you know?' I wondered.

Then it appeared I had misapprehended.

Yeah, I knew what I was in for with the thread title....:D
 
Thanks.

It's so hard, and most people think 'it was just a pet', but she was so much more.

I was crying while typing my post too. My kids are so used to me crying about her, still nearly every day, they don't even question it anymore. She was my constant companion, if I was home she was right next to me. If I was sitting down, she was on my lap. When I sewed she had to be on my lap and I figured out how to sew with her there because I knew one day I wouldn't have her and I would regret dismissing her while I was sewing. I regret every trip I took and left her at home. All that time I could have been with her.

She had seizures her whole life. Pugs have so many health problems due to their breeding and inbreeding. I just happened to get her. My sister took her in as a rescue but she had too many dogs at the time so she asked if I wanted her. My kids had met the dog when they visited my sister but I had never met her. I had just gotten a divorce, we had no pets at the time and I thought, why not, might help the kids get through this.

My sister dropped the dog off and I immediately thought, this is the ugliest thing I've ever seen. The kids took care of her, they were on their Christmas break from school, but when they went back to school the dog sat there and looked at me. I invited her up on my lap and that was it, she didn't leave for the next 10 years. When my sister got her, her name was Monday. My sister changed her name to Maxine. When I got her that name didn't fit for some reason. That first day when she got on my lap I was listening to music and Glorified G by Pearl Jam came on and I thought, your name is Gloria, Gloria G, and that's who she was for the next ten years.

I miss her.

Yeah, I miss Bailey, the black lab, and losing Jazz is going to kill me, but I've had/have so many wonderful memories with both that it makes it worth it.

I was going through a huge health scare myself (I was dying but with treatment could and did get better) and finalizing my divorce when Bailey was failing. I made a huge mistake and held on too long. The poor baby was going through dementia and she suffered.

I won't do that with Jazz, but so far the vet said albeit with her health issues she still has a good quality of life.
 
My cat, Poe, telling me she thinks I'm done writing for the day.

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Just yesterday Crash earned his name when he came high speed dashing into my bedroom, rounded the corner of the bed and leapt at full speed from the floor onto a nightstand by the head of my side of the bed.

I keep my tablets (which were not there at the time thank goodness) as well as a small, square rock water fountain. Crash's momentum took him right across the stand sitting on his furry butt crashing into the fountain knocking it off my stand pouring water on the wall, a shelf, the floor and a multiprong power strip.

He stared at the askew, downed fountain, shook his head, facial expression clearly saying "Whoa, that was so cool!" before dashing off high speed to spread more destruction throughout the house.
 
12-year-old Dalmatian dozing at my feet this very moment. He's surprisingly spry, as old as he is. Been giving the neighborhood squirrels absolute hell this past week.

Name is "Moe-Ray". Like Wegman's Fay Ray and Man Ray, but actually a corruption of "moire", the graphic effect of overlapping dots. Our Dals have always been named in graphic arts terms. Before Moe there was Pixel, before him was Halftone.

Smart, personable and incredibly well-behaved and obedient. Loves his Daddy, loves to travel; entertains the crowds wherever we stop. Knows the names of most of his toys. Best one we've had in 35 years. It's crushing us that he only has a couple of years left before departing for Rainbow Bridge.
 
12-year-old Dalmatian dozing at my feet this very moment. He's surprisingly spry, as old as he is. Been giving the neighborhood squirrels absolute hell this past week.

Name is "Moe-Ray". Like Wegman's Fay Ray and Man Ray, but actually a corruption of "moire", the graphic effect of overlapping dots. Our Dals have always been named in graphic arts terms. Before Moe there was Pixel, before him was Halftone.

Smart, personable and incredibly well-behaved and obedient. Loves his Daddy, loves to travel; entertains the crowds wherever we stop. Knows the names of most of his toys. Best one we've had in 35 years. It's crushing us that he only has a couple of years left before departing for Rainbow Bridge.

Dals are gorgeous and always incredibly smart. Enjoy the time you have left! Give them squirrels hell!
 
<<<——

But here’s the full menagerie preventing me from getting anything done. I’ve only incorporated doxies into one story, where they’re serving as border ‘noses’, and a sequel in progress to that. (Yes, if you’ve read (ignore the movie) World War Z then you get something of the idea.)

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First Cat is an ex-feral. We trapped her when she was about seven or eight weeks old, she wasn't meant to stay with us but she had other plans. She still has a big wild streak in her but she likes to be around me, and if I'm spending too much time on the computer she'll yell at me or bite my feet until I get off and go hang out with her where she wants to be. She has a beautiful thick coat, which doesn't do her any favours in summer. When she decides to cuddle she's ferocious about it.

Second Cat is a very gentle boy. If I tried to play "hunt the finger" with First Cat I'd end up bleeding, but Second Cat knows to keep the claws retracted. He'll mock-savage my hand and then look up at me with this "I'm not being too rough am I?" expression. First Cat chases him around a lot but they still cuddle up together when it's cold.
 
<<<——

But here’s the full menagerie preventing me from getting anything done. I’ve only incorporated doxies into one story, where they’re serving as border ‘noses’, and a sequel in progress to that. (Yes, if you’ve read (ignore the movie) World War Z then you get something of the idea.)

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What an adorable puppy pile-up. A neighbor of mine at the end of the block has a long fenced in backyard and a posse of dachshunds that love to sneak attack passers-by. Such a frenzy.
 
First Cat is an ex-feral. We trapped her when she was about seven or eight weeks old, she wasn't meant to stay with us but she had other plans. She still has a big wild streak in her but she likes to be around me, and if I'm spending too much time on the computer she'll yell at me or bite my feet until I get off and go hang out with her where she wants to be. She has a beautiful thick coat, which doesn't do her any favours in summer. When she decides to cuddle she's ferocious about it.

Second Cat is a very gentle boy. If I tried to play "hunt the finger" with First Cat I'd end up bleeding, but Second Cat knows to keep the claws retracted. He'll mock-savage my hand and then look up at me with this "I'm not being too rough am I?" expression. First Cat chases him around a lot but they still cuddle up together when it's cold.

That sounds like our new kittens - one (Eddy)is gentle-ish until he gets too excited then the claws come out. Crash is always gentle with his claws unless you are a cardboard box - then it's murder mittens.
 
We had Bec’s sister and her family here for a week, and they bought their Pug/King Charles spaniel cross with them. He doesn’t have the issues most pure bred pugs have, but still has the look.

Our new house has a timber hall, and it was fun watching him what our niece described as “Scooby Dooing” towards the door. All legs flailing, but going nowhere…

Having him around has started the discussion about getting another dog.
 
Rocky(2007-2020 the year so bad I even lost my dog). His chair was in my office by my desk and he'd sit and stare at me like this, telling me it was time for a walk. The crossed paws always made me laugh, very proper.

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We have 5 dogs right now, 3 110lb+ mutant Labradors, Nanook, Chinook, and Sitka, who are allegedly hubby's gun dogs, but treat me like their personal possession and won't let anyone come near me on pain of, well, pain, Benny the Golden Spanador, who hasn't figured out how to swim yet so jumps in the pool and swims down to the bottom, from where someone has to rescue him; the little doofus has to wear a flotation aid, while all the neighborhood dogs sit around and laugh at him, and Inuk the Newfoundland juvenile who already weighs 130lbs and like to lean on me just to watch me fall over.

The fur-babies keep me endlessly entertained, Benny especially, as he lives in a kind of permanent Eden; yesterday never happened, tomorrow doesn't exist, only today is real; what that means is he never remembers where his food bowl is, and I have to hand feed him because when I call him for dinner he runs off into the garden and starts looking for food under the bushes...
 
Mister party pooper here, reporting for duty (doody).

All fun and right brained people please ignore and move on, or write something impassioned pointing out how non-fun I am. Left brained people, either check my grammar or write something scholarly debating whether right-v-left brained concepts are legitimate or not.

With photo search being what it is, think twice before posting the same photo that you might post in “real” (or at least, identity known) life. Same for words or word combinations (names+breeds+Detail combinations) that reduce the possible population from 6 billion down to just a few. Same general advice, btw to a few of our most regular regulars here who routinely share enough details that a “biggest fan” type could use to look for you.

Thank you. Please proceed.

On topic but intentionally vague: I have two dogs rescued from the pound and a cat adopted from a “rescue”, although it may have been a “cat lady” calling herself a rescue. We’re not sure. Each will do anything for a belly, behind the ear, or lower back rub. Two of the three permutations will fall asleep resting their head on another. Haven’t been without a dog and/or cat in a long long time.
 
This was Stevie, named after Stevie Nicks (not by us, we inherited her when mother-in-law died.)

With me retired, she hung by my side almost 24/7. I'd look out my office and she'd be stretched out on the landing or beside my desk.

She was poisoned. Some creep distributed bones through the neighbourhood soaked with poison. I wish I knew who. It would not go well for them.

She was endlessly obsessed with her ball. She'd play, chase and attack it for hours every day.

After she died, I kept seeing flashes of white on the landing out of the corner of my eye. I'd keep looking expecting to see her there. :(

You can see her preparing to ambush that nasty ball!

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