Goodbye, Bailee, and We Go On

Early Wednesday afternoon Bailee died. We think it was rat poison. With so man cats and dogs on this block, why do they insist on using poison? It’s better to let the animals control the rat population. Another possibility is spider bite. The vet said that it was an unusual poison, because there was no bleeding of the eyes, nose or mouth. Tegwedd thinks she might have had some convulsions. She seemed to jerk a bit while Tegwedd held her, but she thought that Bailee was just trying to catch her breath. Debbie thought it might be a spider bite. Stephen found a headless rat by where he found her. Stephen and Walt buried Bailee in the very back of the backyard. We said some words over her grave, and Tegwedd planted a small walnut seedling on her grave.

Dr. Livingston is lying on her back between the back cushion and the back of the couch. She got on the arm of the couch, then when Stephen petted her, she fell backwards into the trash can.

Bailee taught the other putties the hundredth putty, where the putty will reach in with hir paw, and take out one piece of food, then eat it out of the food bin. The hundredth putty thing is a take off from the 100th monkey phenomenon. When you get to critical mass, all the putties across the street, and across the city will be doing it.

The house seems empty without Bailee, which is strange when you consider how full of stuff this house is. Pyewacket and Putty Bear like to hang out on the stove. Tegwedd said, “Do you know which song they should be singing?” “No, what?” said Stephen. “Home...home on the range,” she sang.

We’ll missed the crossed paws. It was dangerous when Bailee crossed her paws in front of her. It was a form of communication--putty sign language. We always thought that they were plotting something dastardly and nefarious. The putties sit on the TV remote and change the channel. A lot of the time they change it to Animal Planet.

Tegwedd’s ex-hubby Andy used to steer Bailee around on her back on the carpet, and she would just buzz her head off. The putties have tag team wrestling matches. They engage in putty combat whenever possible. Just a little while ago we heard some growling coming from the stove. Neither of us got up to investigate. Stephen asked, “What’s for dinner?” Tegwedd asked, “Where’s my dinner, taking a cue from what Putty Bear said when he first came in here.

We now have a pentacle of putties. After 10 pm we turn off the porch light. Tegwedd stretched out her feet on the footstool, aka the Summer Palace, and Frakki, who was already there, sniffed at her feet then attacked them. Tegwedd had Pyewacket resting on her chest, where she likes to lie, and Dr. Livingston came over and whapped the other putty for no good reason. Frakki has created her own form of divination using used drinking straws, which she scatters all over the floor. Tegwedd is working out a way of interpreting the pattern thus formed. She thinks it’ll be similar to tea leaf reading, coffee grounds reading, or bean reading, but she isn’t quite sure. We’re going to see Bailee in our peripheral vision for quite some time. The back yard is now Bailee’s yard. She loved the yard. She liked to look at it from the back porch. She also liked to look at the roses from the window. Tegwedd used to sing “Bailee go ‘round the Roses” (a take off of the old song “Sally go ‘round the Roses) to her. Bailee loved it when we sang to her. All the putties love to be sung to. It doesn’t matter what kind of voice you have, or whether you can carry a tune. They love the attention. Tegwedd also sang “Hey there Bailee Girl” to her. Bailee was 24 lbs. of comedy and terror, emphasis on the comedy. She had many names, Bailee Beasely Beastly, Triple B Threat, 3B, Ma Bailee, and Machine Gun Bailee. But we never called her Late for Dinner. Watch your putties. Maybe get them in at 6 pm like we do. Tegwedd’s face is now being licked by Pyewacket. She’ll give you 2 hours to quit scritching her. Tegwedd is surrounded by female putties. Dr. Livingston is at her left shoulder on the back of the couch, Pyewacket is still on her chest, and Frakki is on the footstool at her feet. Pyewacket is the putty raptor. She is really aggressive when it comes to cold cuts. She’ll bite your finger if it’s near a piece of salami. Putty Bear has gotten huge, but what comes out of his mouth but squeaks. We’re seeing if Cirque de Soleil would like to have Dr. Livingston for awhile as a contortionist. But these putties can form very regal poses then they’ll lie on their backs with their paws in the air in these hilarious poses. They’re very tough putties, you know. They can lick anyone in the house, and often do. But they aren’t good watch dogs. Worst they can do to you is lick you to death or bite your nose. The closest they get to watch putties is that we watch them.

Putty Bear is very very funny. He knows when you’re getting ready to go out, and he’s right at the door to escape when you leave. Nor can he be gotten back inside quickly or easily. He’s become very predictable as to where he goes when he’s not supposed to go out. He can be found on the side of the house, curled up into a ball, forming his very own miniature crop circle. Boy is he going to be mad when Stephen weed eats that long grass. He’ll have to find another spot to press down. Since Bailee’s death, the other putties have, in our opinion, become more affectionate. Last night Pyewacket gave Tegwedd’s face a thorough bath, focusing on her nose. She spent a good part of the evening and this morning on Tegwedd’s chest. Like the others. she’s a tough putty, and can lick anyone in the house. When you’re petting her, she’ll give you about 2 hours to stop, and often does. Putty Bear used to lose their fights, but since he’s gotten so huge, he’s won 3 fights against Pyewacket so far.

The Sheriff’s Dept. is investigating the poisoning, and Stephen will contact the SPCA. Even though Dr. Livingston is a full adult, she is still a shoulder putty. Most shoulder putties grow out of it, but she hasn’t. When Stephen brought in Putty Bear, Dr. Livingston was on his shoulder. As has been mentioned before, the surviving putties make up a pentacle of putties. Let’s hear it for Magickal Pentacle Putty Power! Inky, our panther putty, is the elder now. I call him Inka Dinka Doodle Doo. The two males are not related to the three females. Inky is Tegwedd’s boy friend now. She told the Queen that her boyfriend was short and black. The Queen guessed right away that Tegwedd was talking about a putty. When Tegwedd first moved in, Inky lowered her blood pressure 11 points. Inky is 1st putty, who lived in pits and learned to use his claws in self defense. That’s an adaptation of a FireSign Theatre routine.

Here is a poem that Tegwedd wrote to Bailee:

Ode to Bailee

Bailee, you were so sweet
You made the birds go tweet tweet
Loving, you gave us two hours
To stop petting you among the flowers
You liked to stare at the roses
And bite us on our noses
Your purr was very loud
Even though going out was not allowed
You were unbowed
By your weight and long fur
Very seldom did you go grrr!
We love you very much
You thrilled to our very touch
You taught them all the hundredth putty
Even though you were mutty
Your crossed paws signalled danger
Known by us but not a stranger
When you’re not near us, we’re blue
O Bailee we love you!

To sum this whole thing up, we miss Bailee, but the rest of the putties are doing their best to console us for her loss. We noe have a pentacle of putties that keep our stress level down by making us laugh at their comical antics. When one of them tries to jump up on something like the video tape cabinet or coffee table and misses, falling down in a most undignified manner, they try to recapture their dignity while we quote the immortal words of our favorite stand up philosopher, the late great George Carlin, “I meant to do that. I’ve been planning it all week. I’ll be here till Thursday.”