#and i feel better about what i've done for him since the family vet seemed to approve of the syringe-feeding and other things i've tried

[practically-an-x-man]

Vet came over and looked at Loki. He said from what he could tell, it's either a bad tooth (in which case they'll run antibiotics and pull the tooth and he should be okay) or a carcinoma (in which case surgery would be an option but a risk)

He said that given it's isolated to the one side of his mouth and there aren't any other symptoms besides him not eating, he's a little more optimistic about it being a dental issue rather than cancer. There is an exotic vet at his practice who will see Loki on Thursday, we'll drop him off then and discuss the options. It's possible they'll sedate him and pull the tooth on that day, otherwise they'll run some antibiotics and see if he improves before Monday (Monday being the other day they might try to pull the tooth)

I recognize that anesthesia is a risk, especially at Loki's age, but the way I see it, letting this go unresolved is an even bigger risk. If the choice is risk anesthesia to pull the tooth or wait it out while he's in pain and refusing to eat, I'll risk the anesthesia.

Oh, and they said he was one of the best-behaved hedgehogs they've seen and was an ideal patient temperament-wise, which was nice to hear

[fbwzoo]

I can't share the 30-some pictures I did with my FB post, going from last December to this December. So I'll just use this one - which I just took after a quick harness training session in which she bounced across half the couch to meet me & wagged for the first 15 seconds, and before she made me put my phone down for a bout of snuggle scritches. 😭🥰

This is such a long post, I'm going to put it under a cut. But today is the 1 year anniversary of Emma coming home to us, and I am FULL of emotions over this little dog. So if you want to read my rambling & think with me how far my baby has come in a year.... read on!

One year of my Emma. 💙💜 I didn't really expect to love this dog so much, velcro dog and all. She is definitively My Dog, and I never had a choice in the matter. I think that was just gonna happen, ever since I first saw her adoption post 1 year & 9 months ago. Every time I saw her posted again, I wanted her. It was meant to be! 🥰

And now I look back on the year & think about it all. We changed a bunch of things in our household for this little dog, and all year, we kept adjusting & improving where it was needed for her & the other animals. I love my family so much, and I'm so grateful to have found these other people who love animals & are so willing to adapt as needed for their happiness too. Everyone in the house agreed to take on a project dog, and everyone stepped up to help her settle in.

It's weird too, bc it often doesn't feel like we've DONE that much. But when I tell someone new about her, or spell it out for myself, I'm reminded that we've done the work, even if it mostly didn't seem like work. And we gave her what we knew we absolutely could, what she needed most - time and space. We went at her pace, let her lead us, and it's been truly amazing to watch her over this year.

Emma has gone from being very worried to terrified about any & all human movements, unable to be pet or touched, quick to be on guard at any small change in position. Terrified of loud noises and too much activity. Barking at Joel to try and make him go away. Pottying in the house on pee pads because outside is scary. Only laying in a lap if the lap was covered with a blanket.

All of that.... to a dog that spends 98% of her time relaxed, happy, and ready to be involved. She greets us with alert barks instead of guarding barks, tail wags, bouncing, and licks (okay, mostly me for some of that but still). Everyone in the house has been able to pet her. She actively loves to be pet by Jack in bed & me anywhere when she wants snuggles. She plays with her dog siblings and with me. She discovered the joys of yard zoomies early on & never looked back - she potty trained faster and better than Spring!

She knows and likes our household routines. She LOVES food, and it's the quickest way to her heart! 😂 But she's learned some manners too, like not snatching food with any opportunity! She's gotten more comfortable being on the floor. She still likes to chew more than our other two, and has gotten really great at managing big emotions by redirecting to a Benebone!

We're not the best at active training, but even so, she makes us & me look good! She's interested now, when the treats come out, and wants to see what to do to get some. She interacts with new objects, she is doing great with harness training.

She has opinions now!!! And she will tell you!!! Especially if they involve dinner time! 😂 I still can't believe she demand barks now, and it's been too cute for us to bother stopping for the most part.

I've thought about goals for her over the next year, and I definitely have some big ones. Continue harness training until I can put it fully on her & take it off. Leash skills & comfort with them. All of that slowly, so slowly leading up to trips out of the house - to do vet happy visits, check out some SniffSpots, and go visit her sister at foster mom's house. I also want to introduce some pattern games to help with all of that.

And we plan to start having people over to the house again! Not sure how often or how many, and we may have to alter pace based on how she does. But she's so often surprised us with her resilience, so I think we'll do okay! (And obviously all visitors will be required to follow rules around my pup, or face the mama bear wrath 😂)

But mostly....I just can't wait for another year with this extremely sweet, loving, exuberant little dog that is working so hard to find her confidence. We're all so very proud of Emma, and love her so much. 💜💙

I also included a thank you to both rescues & Emma's foster mom, for all of their time, work, and hoops to ensure that Emma would be safe. They genuinely gave us all the information we needed to make sure we were prepared, and I am even more grateful for that after seeing how rare our experience is in my fearful dogs group.

[bitbybitwrites]

It's been FOREVER since I've done one of these - I really am grateful to everyone who's been tagging me, even though I've been letting it slide doing this on time ( which is kind of well, my thing, isn't it 😂)

Its been a while - just time, inspiration and utter exhaustion have gotten in the way from really writing. I was finally able to finish one Klaine fic recently (yay!) - so I'm slowly plugging away at everything else I've got on the back burner.

Under the cut will be bits from If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - my Klaine fic that is approaching a year😳 since I started writing it! (Where the heck did the time go? 25 chapters and 102, 599 words later and I'm still plugging away at it!) Also an excerpt of the next chapter of Puppy Love - my sweet RWRB kid!fic. Can't wait to write more of this adorable story also!

Thanks for being patient with me folks and for reading my stuff and just tagging me in these things . . .💖💖💖

*****

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home (Klaine fic - Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang 2023) cc @datshitrandom

Kurt shook his head.  “I know.  You’re right, Maggie."  He took a deep breath.  “I guess I feel like an idiot.  I messed up something great and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.” “Nonsense,” Maggie huffed as she slid the box in her hand into the shopping cart.  “Let me tell you no couple is perfect together all of the time.  It’s hard.  It's hard work to get two people who can be so different to share a life together. And let me tell you Ralph and I were like oil and water on many occasions.” “She’s not wrong, “ Clara confirmed.  “Ma and Pop had some really big blowouts when I was a kid. Remember the cracked bowling ball argument?” Maggie snorted.  “Oh god and one about the fishing weekend he took with your Uncle Al and never thought to let me and your Auntie Anna know. Thought they were dead in a ditch somewhere.” Clara laughed along with her mother.  “And the hat - the one about your new hat that he thought . .” “Looked like a bird had died on my head.” Maggie cackled.  “Oh I was so insulted.  I loved that hat!” Clara wiped away a few tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyes.  “At the time, it seemed like the end of the world. But it wasn't, not really.” “We never stayed mad for long.  And we worked it all out.” Maggie admitted, a wistful look in her eyes as she recalled all those moments. “I don’t know if he wants to talk to me anymore, Maggie.  That’s the problem.  I think I might have missed my chance.” Maggie took Kurt’s hand in hers and squeezed it firmly.  “You’re never going to know if you don’t try, Pillsbury.” “Talk to him, Kurt," Clara added.  “You owe yourself that, don’t you think?  Let him know how you really feel.  Talk about everything that's been bothering you . . and then, see what happens.” “I’m rooting for you, Pillsbury,”  Maggie told him softly.  “I’ve got a good feeling about you and Monty.” “We both do.” Clara chimed in.

****

Puppy Love (FirstPrince fic - RWRB NYE Gift Exchange 2023) - cc @omgbarbiegurl

Alex mostly operated on a “full-steam-ahead” way of living life.  He jumped off of cliffs - made big decisions and went with them, often with very little mulling over or introspection, basically throwing himself wholeheartedly into life.  Some of his family thought it was too reckless, too thoughtless, too rash. He preferred believing he was going with his gut instincts. Alex did that when decided to drop his law studies and go to vet school.  He did that when moved in with his last partner.  He went with his gut when he decided to adopt Raf,  and also when he made the decision to move to NYC to start a new chapter in his life and to start the animal rescue with June. So far, Alex couldn’t say he was disappointed with any of his impulsive life choices.  Well, he slightly wished that Jessica and him had ended on better terms. But he couldn’t dwell on it. She was the one who didn’t want to be a parent and that was a deal breaker for Alex. He refused to give Raf up and change his mind like she had after the fact. Alex loved his son with all that he had. It was him and Raf together till the end.  Alex was determined to make their new life in New York the best that it could be.  Having June and Nora alongside him for this adventure was comforting, and Alex couldn’t deny that they were keeping him grounded most of the time.  They knew his tendency to hyper focus and prodded him enough to keep him from doing it too much to the detriment of his family time with Raf.  But getting the rescue up off the ground was harder than they had expected. Even now after they had been established for quite some time, there were days whenthe siblings would wonder what they had gotten themselves into. Creating a business from scratch, juggling to manage everything and taking care of the animals as well was overwhelming and chaotic on most days. Spencer and Liam coming aboard last month was not only a pleasant surprise,  but a nice shot of relief for June and Alex. Certainly once the holidays were over it would be even easier. They could start to mange more realistic shifts at the rescue and begin to maintain some sort of normalcy with the extra help. Alex would be the first to admit that whenever prioritizing his life, even with his chaotic schedule, Raf came first, then his work and then . . well his personal needs and wants last.   After he and Jessica had parted, Alex pushed any thoughts of dating - or even random hook ups out of his mind. There really was no time for that.  And in no way was there anyone who even piqued his interest enough for him to come surfacing out of his self-imposed exile from the dating world. Or rather, that was true until an abandoned beagle and the gorgeous man who rescued him waltzed into his life.

****

OK . . so many thanks to the following lovely folks who have tagged me in the past few weeks for Six Sentence Sunday/ WIP Wednesday :

@porcelainmortal, @wordsofhoneydew, @duchessdepolignaca03, @forabeatofadrum, @littlemisskittentoes,

@agostobuwan, @nocoastposts, @sheepywritesfics @taste-thewaste @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

@iboatedhere, @itsmaybitheway, @onthewaytosomewhere, @myheartalivewrites, @magicandarchery

@fallevs. @daisyishedwig. @welcometololaland and if I forgot anyone, I so apologize! ( I really tried keeping a list every time I missed one!)

So going to open tag anyone who might want to share what they're working on . . but I'll also tag for the hell of it, if they want to jump in:

@kirakiwiwrites, @madas-ahatters-world, @coffeegleek, @gleefulpoppet, @little-escapist

@spaceorphan18 @yadivagirl

[amaya-chwan]

Takeaways from Therapy Game Restart 14 + Illustration Book Release Date

Hello again everyone! ❤️💛💜

It's finally here... chapter 14! In all its glory! 😍🥰✨

Before we get to our takeaways, just some news I missed in the last post!

🎉 SENSEI'S ILLUSTRATION BOOK WILL BE RELEASED AROUND THURSDAY, 23RD SEPTEMBER! 🎉

Image taken from this Twitter post from Dear+!

It is titled "日ノ原巡イラスト集　DARLING" and boasts a collection of illustrations from Sensei's works so far: Secret XXX, Therapy Game, and Kamisama no Uroko.

The current price is ¥2970 with tax (¥2700 without tax). If you'd like to preorder it on your proxy shopping service, I've found it on the Comi Comi Studios website here! The bonus for purchasing it on this website is a B5 clear file~ I haven't seen it on Animate just yet, so fingers crossed it'll appear on their website soon with another (different) bonus! ❤️💛

Alright, with this amazing news done, let's move onto our takeaways, the long awaited takeaways! Thank you for being so patient with me! 💜

My short life update: currently in week 8 of lockdown and I haven't left my house in a long time other than for exercise or groceries. But I do have my vaccination appointment booked so YAY! 🎉

Here are our takeaways for this chapter:

Oh man, we pick right up from the last page of chapter 13. MINATO, BB, YOU LOOK SO PAINED! 😭

Sensei is the BIGGEST tease... that's all we got of that Minato and Shizuma scene...👀😭

The female staff at the veterinary hospital have really mellowed out! They're not bad, after all. ☺️

Oh dear, Nakajou-sensei, please get better ASAP!

Whoa... did Onodera just...?? I'm starting to think back to that Onodera discussion we had a couple of months ago... 🤔

Poor Shizuma, always roped into Onodera's workplace stuff! IT'S BECAUSE YOU HAVE GREAT PEOPLE SKILLS, SHIZUMA! PROUD OF YOU! 😍🙌

Man, Onodera has a really... blunt way of saying things to her human clients. Wow, brave. 😲

But I will say, Onodera really is good with animals. 🙌

Yet again, I think about that Onodera discussion we had... 🤔🤔

And that’s it for this chapter’s takeaways! For a more detailed breakdown/summary of this chapter, please continue after the cut! There may or may not be a surprise scene (or two) there. Please keep reading if you want to see~  😉✨

Our chapter begins where we left off in chapter 13--Minato pinning Shizuma down on the bed. Shizuma looks up at Minato and reflects on his actions that caused the pained look he is seeing.

Image taken from this Dear+ Twitter post!

On the next page (title page), the dialogue reads: Shizuma wants to understand what it is about his director (Onodera) that is making Minato uneasy. // However, that beautiful liar hides it well...

(I believe we are taken back to the morning before Shizuma and Minato meet up for their date.)

The title page features Onodera walking back to the clinic, bread in hand, with a cat cozying up on her leg. We are then brought to the clinic's lunchroom, with the female staff and Shizuma on break. The roster in the room shows that Onodera is extremely busy, Nakajou-sensei has afternoon house call appointments, Tatsumi is Nakajou-sensei's support for these appointments, and Shizuma has a half day and finishes in the afternoon in lieu of working on his scheduled day off.

Shizuma asks his coworkers what presents they like from their partners and takes note of their answers. One of the female nurses asks if it's Minato's birthday. Shizuma confesses that their relationship has been affected by the various things happening lately, so he wants to get Minato a gift before seeing him later that day.

The nurses quickly pick up that the gift is a "tribute" of sorts as this line of work means a lot of missed appointments and dates, and Shizuma confirms their suspicions. While the nurses realise male-male relationships and male-female relationships aren't that different in this aspect, everyone in the lunchroom is alerted to someone shouting Nakajou-sensei's name.

Shizuma and a nurse see Tatsumi with Nakajou-sensei, who has collapsed on the floor. While the staff are concerned about Nakajou's well-being, she brushes it off as a dizzy spell. Before they can help her up, Onodera sweeps her off her feet and carries Nakajou to her (Onodera's) office. While Nakajou asks Onodera to put her down out of sheer embarrassment, Shizuma and Tatsumi are in shock, with Tatsumi commenting on Onodera's manliness in that moment. One of the other nurses gently smacks Shizuma's shoulder and tells the two to grab a blanket and a drink for Nakajou.

In her office, Onodera asks Nakajou why she's been overworking herself to the point of collapsing. The nurse (who gave the gentle smack) very obviously hints to Onodera that it is her fault. As Nakajou calms the nurse by saying that's just how the director is, Tatsumi asks Nakajou about their afternoon appointments. She says she'll be fine to go after a little rest, but the nurse says she mustn't overexert herself.

After a few back and forths about who should go and the clients' needs/personality (picky about the vet, had a pet that doesn't like men, etc), Onodera says she will go. The nurses are shocked and reminisce about all the issues they've had when Onodera interacts with the owners. Tatsumi and Shizuma stand there, and can very clearly imagine those situations happening.

While Onodera rearranges and informs the nurses of the shift changes to accommodate Nakajou-sensei, Shizuma has a terrible premonition that unfortunately comes true: he is appointed as Onodera's support for the afternoon house calls.

Wearing a sulky expression, Shizuma packs the necessary equipment in Onodera's car and reminds her that he has a very important engagement that night that he cannot miss, and as such will leave immediately after the house call appointments are done. Onodera bursts his bubble, and tells him to give up on those plans while he can since this is the line of work he's chosen.

As Shizuma reads the client files, he questions Onodera on why he is her support when he's never attended to these clients before. While Onodera tells him that good coordination is important with a physician's support and that he's the only one she can rely on to give her an honest opinion and calm the clients, Shizuma realises that he's basically the mediator between her and the owners. She confirms that this is his strong point, has great expectations for him, and proceeds to drive. Shizuma then reads the patient files at lightning speed, realising there's a threatening 'something' that Minato has sensed, but that's just how the director is. He then vows to make it to their meeting tonight, no matter what.

The first three house calls, as expected, involve Onodera insulting and angering the owners--Onodera tells the first client that his insistence on seeing Nakajou rather than a 'young' director is having a negative effect on his pet who needs immediate medical care; Onodera offends the second client, inferring from their conversation that her pet's appearance is more important than the need to shave their fur and get an ultrasound done; Onodera accuses the third client of being irresponsible in caring for his exotic animals and asks for more effort on his part. In all three scenarios, Shizuma awkwardly smiles while trying to ease the tension.

The scene skips to Onodera and Shizuma arriving at their fourth and final house call for the day. Just as Onodera explains to Shizuma that she must check a whole host of things at house calls (and indirectly be too blunt about it with the owners), Shizuma asks her to consider the owner's feelings and change when and how she says things. She glares ahead in silence, and Shizuma is just glad that she is now aware of it. He again reminds her to talk with the owner nicely and gently as he probably won't be able to help with the next client as their pet dislikes men. Onodera tells him to just sit in the corner and witness the client become furious while he doesn't help, making him feel slightly guilty for saying that. He is now adament on not helping her.

They reach the owner's home and we meet an elderly woman named Shiratori and her 9-year-old male cat, Tono. Shiratori apologises to Shizuma as her cat doesn't like men. Tono hisses at them as Onodera opens his cage, but is then coaxed into submission by Onodera who covers his vision with a towel and takes him into her lap to calm down. Shiratori and Shizuma are surprised at his sudden docile nature, with Shizuma witnessing how well she deals with animals.

As Shizuma looks on at Onodera while she completes a check on Tono, he sees she is crumbling at the friendliness and talkative nature of Shiratori, who sings nothing but praise for Onodera and how her family must be proud to have such an amazing daughter. Aiming to ease her troubles and remembering the earlier guilt-trip she gave him, he redirects Shiratori's attention to her broken fly screen and offers to fix that plus everything else that needs repair in her home.

Onodera watches as the two leave the room for a bit before apologising to Tono for ignoring him. Tono looks on at Onodera happily while she asks him how he can live with such a lively human and to tell her his secret to this. She brings him into her arms once more to check his limbs, and as Tono looks up smiling at Onodera, Onodera sees her reflection in Tono's eyes, and both seem to realise something.

BG Text: Stare...

Suddenly, Shizuma and Shiratori, who are busy fixing the window, hear a loud crash and rush into the room to find Tono atop the cabinet and Onodera on the floor, with her hair in disarray. In the next panel, Tono is shown to be hiding in the bookshelf, looking on irritatingly at the humans. Shiratori apologises to Onodera, who shakes it off and says it's nothing to worry about and no harm's been done.

Shiratori asks if Onodera will fix/tie her hair up again, but when Onodera says her hair tie was broken when Tono used her as a launchpad to get on the cabinet, Shiratori runs to get her a new one. As Shiratori gushes over the 3 piece dopey looking character hair tie set she received as a present from her grandchild (and lets Onodera pick one), a greatly displeased look is plastered on Onodera's face. Shizuma, in shock, notices her displeasure and hopes she just thanks Shiratori for it. And Onodera does, bringing a great big smile to Shiratori's face.

As Onodera and Shizuma leave, Shiratori says she's glad to have talked with Onodera and invites her to come over again. As she says this, we see Onodera looking back with a blank look in her eyes.

And that’s it for this chapter! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! 💜 While I was surprised at the lack of Minato in this chapter (Sensei legit is such a tease, LOL 🤣), I'm happy we can learn more about Onodera. Ngl, I'm starting to really question if Onodera is male or female now, given what transpired in this chapter. I guess we shall see in the next one!

I also changed the formatting a bit and removed the bullet points. Please let me know which format is better/easier to read! Ahah!

EDIT: Spelling and grammar checks are done! Didn't change a lot, but hope it reads better! 💜

📢 As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢

And please also refrain from resharing these translations and images outside of this post! Thank you for understanding! ❤️💛

There won't be a chapter in next month's (September release) Dear+, so I shall see you in two months for the next chapter (Dear+ November Issue, to be released in October).

As always, stay safe during these turbulent times and look out for each other and for your loved ones! 💜❤️💛

[resinatingbeauty]

In Memory of The Best Friend I Ever Had - RIP Shadow (assumed)- 4/30/2021

Shadow showed up at my parents house where I lived at the time, one night back in 2016. I had just gotten home from working at a local country club late in the evening, tired, and physically burnt out from working 40+ hours a week on top of going to college for my associates degree. I saw something pass by the driveway out of the corner of my eye. Something massively fluffy, tail straight up in the air, trotting along. There are many feral cat colonies in this town and many cat owners that lived on that street. Needless to say, I didn't expect this one to whip back around and start chirping at me, rubbing my legs after I called to her.

My mother was adamant when my last two cats had past 8 or so years prior that she wasn't looking for any more pets. My mom loves animals, but she also loves her home and was thinking about doing renovations before adopting any new companions. I knew I was in trouble when this cat came to me with nothing but affection, clearly malnourished, but strangely well groomed. I knew she had to be owned by someone, I had no idea who.

That night I went inside after spending some time enjoying her company. At the time, I was calling 'Charlemange'' as a play on 'Charlemagne'. I had been taking a medieval humanities course at the time and the name seemed fitting enough considering how much scraggly fur she had. Huge paws. Big, fluffy tail and mane. I had never seen a cat so gorgeous around the area. All the feral cats are short hairs, reinforcing my notion that she had to be someone's pet.

I watched through the window slit of the front door as Charlemange played with the moths and other bugs that were attracted to the lamp post my parents have at the end of the driveway and regretted leaving her out there.

I simply thought that Charlemange would return home where she belonged. When I went out to my back screened in patio, whom do you think was waiting for me? Meowing? Charlemange. To my mother's horror, she would launch herself at the screen and hang there to get our attention. Imagine this big ass cat hanging from your screened in porch you've been trying to renovate by all her claws.

She was persistent and Charlemange NEVER returned home, wherever home was.

Eventually, I sealed the deal, low key giving her a can of tuna. Now you see how Shadow went from Charlemange to Shadow.

For about a month, all I had to do was make a high pitched noise and Shadow would come out of wherever brush she was stalking, running and talking until she found me. One evening, I went to give her her dinner, and she shot in the front door.

Mortified, I watched as she scooted right into the one place that I dreaded her to go. My parent's room. That night, as a 20 something, I received a lecture from my father about how my mother felt about pets. 'She isn't a kitten, you know,' he said, 'thats a grown cat. Someone else's cat.'

I just listened and acknowledged what he was saying. I knew there was no point trying to explain what exactly happened. When my dad got done going off on the back porch and went back in to bed, I heard a meow from the patio door. Shadow had been standing at the door, waiting for him to leave , almost like she was saying, 'Hey, I'm really sorry about that, sis,'

Shadow would go on to live in or around the property for nearly a month. I made an effort to find her owners and return her to no avail. Eventually, a single mom I had been working as a private tutor for as a side hustle agreed that she would take Shadow. This would only last for a few months. The family had another cat, Karma, whom had been declawed (I abhor this) and two little girls who had no respect for animals (especially cats) because of this. I knew how the oldest handled Karma and my only solace in handing Shadow over was that I knew she wouldn't be hit by a car, would be fed, loved to a degree, and would scratch the shit out of them if they fucked up.

Their mother ended up calling me, giving me money to bring Shadow in to the humane society, saying she was a wonderful cat, just not the best fit for the girls. I could only imagine what Shadow went through at that house, because the time there changed her. The collar I had on her was returned to me snapped in two. It looked like it had been pulled off. I cringed thinking about it and never put another collar back on that cat. At the time, a woman had been busted hoarding 100+ cats that had all been relinquished to the humane society and local rescues. The humane society's solution for most was euthanasia and I wasn't about that for Shadow. Back to my backyard she went.

Eventually, Shadow won over my mother and my father, especially my father, whom you would never think would love that cat so much. When my mother brought Shadow to the vet, we were surprised to find she had a chip in her ear registered to someone on our block. As per protocol, animal control was sent out to investigate. The woman told animal control that she didn't want the cat. All she did was run away. Shadow's real name was Holly, but she was still Shadow to me.

Shadow became the best friend I ever knew. Not a night went by where she wasn't under my covers sharing the pillow with me, laying stretched out on her back or side as the little spoon. If she wasn't in my bed, she would sit at the door to the bedroom, guarding me or in a chair next to me, always watching. I could do no wrong in that cat's eyes. She was the highlight of my day when I got home from every crappy job I had since. A furry coat to soak up the tears shed during long nights of insomnia and depression. An inspiration for my art and spirituality. My familiar and kindred spirit. If I would talk to her, she would respond with chirps and meows like she knew exactly what I was saying. If someone else was in the room giving her attention and I walked in, she would perk up and run toward me like they never existed. Shadow was the second cat that chose me. I have never chosen a cat from a shelter or adoption / rescue facility. This is how I acquired both my childhood furry friend and Shadow.

It all began when I noticed Shadow's fur was sticky and stiff, like she had been sitting in honey. Just the end of her tail at first. She always had this silly habit of sitting in her food tray, so I cleaned it and her and thought nothing of it until the drooling started.

Shadow had always been a drooler, but not to this extent. Drool bubbles would pop from her left lip. One night, when I came home from work before I started my leave to focus on my Etsy shop, I was horrified to find her sitting on the couch with a bloody chin. Now, there wasn't a large amount of blood, but this alarmed me significantly. It was time to see a vet, like, yesterday. Thankfully, my shop sales had been great and I didn't have to fret over the bill- I was ready to pay whatever it was to make her feel better.

The vet confirmed what I knew deep down and didn't want to acknowledge because the thought was just too painful. Cancer. No chance of survival even if I wanted to go through the hell of treatment, which involved removal of the tongue and jaw. I brought Shadow home and cried, hoping for the best -that the antibiotic would work. The vet said she had been wrong before, it could just be an abscess and it would heal. Shadow was still doing cat things. Shadow was still my best friend, she still loved me, she was still trying to cuddle me at night and surrounding me with the reminder of death in the odor of her breath.

Yesterday, I brought Shadow in to be put to sleep. The decision was made when I looked up from making a rune set and saw puddles of blood on the floor, a stream of it from her face as she was sitting in the window sill. I have never felt so heartbroken. Not even at a family member's funeral. I asked to bring her home, burying her under the tree where I buried my last cat and childhood familiar, Elmo. When I saw the standard biohazard bag peeking up through the dirt, I knew that was where she belonged. With her sister. Yesterday, my heart was buried with that cat. Eleven years was not long enough but each one filled with so much love and happiness. I stood with her until the end. The only peace I feel is that I know that she is no longer hurting. I know she knew I loved her.

I miss you Shadow. To those of you who have recently lost your best friend, your familiar or the love of your life, my heart goes out to you. I hope that someone else can read this and share my pain. I understand that there was nothing I could do but love her. Love your pets. Love them as long and as well as you can- nothing is immortal. We accept this when we commit to caring for our (mostly) furry (sometimes scaly or feathery) friends. This doesn't mean that it hurts any less when we lose them.

To my customers, who have been patiently and diligently awaiting orders while Etsy forced hiatus on my shop, preventing sales during this crisis in addition to my sister in law's wedding and me poking my own eye out back and February- you all are really the best turn of luck I've had. You do not know how much I appreciate you allowing me the time to spend these last few precious moments with her. It truly means the world to me and I hope at the end you receive something worth your time and patience. I have not forsaken fulfillment, and orders are still shipping. Unfortunately, I NEED to reopen and accept new orders, as Etsy is demanding payment for $600 worth of shipping labels. My shop is still appearing as in hiatus at the moment, but I ask for all the support my friends, supporters and followers can offer at this time as I essentially will be working for free when I reopen to pay these fees. Great, right?

If you are awaiting refunds, there is literally no money in the account associated with Etsy. However, as the funds become available, I will be processing refunds / cancellations. I'm sorry for the delays, I never thought I would say I found success at the worst possible time. I urge the rest of you- if you have a deadline for your order for the love of goddess TELL ME. I am getting a little frustrated with buyers (who are frustrated with me, understandably, but still, my item descriptions are clear about relaying deadlines) who are upset or complaining about meeting gift deadlines or other deadlines I literally had no idea about. I'm a decent psychic, but not perfect.

~ Samantha

(Owner/Designer/Creator blursedbaubles.etsy.com)

[xboxdudett]

Ok so I don't know what deity or spirit or entity or whatever I've pissed off, but this shit is getting ridiculous.

This has officially been the week from hell. Everything has gone wrong. And my family in general is known for its terrible luck, me especially (I mean, shit, I've literally been struck by lightning twice, that's pretty fucking unlucky) but the last few days have been terrible.

First, our cat Ash developed a terrible UTI that we had to rush him to the emergency vet for. It was terrifying for the fact that we woke up to him practically screaming and leaving literal puddles of blood all over the house. It's taken several rounds of different medications but it finally seems to be getting better, thankfully.

Next, my dad and I have been working on building a chicken run (just a large fenced in area for the chickens to live in without the fear of any predators getting them). The brilliance of our design is that it will back up to my little garden and in the fall and spring we can let them in it to scrounge around. SO, we have to dig two holes right next to the garden, which is enclosed by an old dog pen, so that no deer or anything eat the plants (we live in the middle of nowhere so it is actually a huge concern).

First hole went great. No problems. Post is leaning a little because of the dog kennel, but no big deal. Second hole?? ...........not so much. Posthole digger hit a stone when we were pulling it up and jumped over against the fence.

It ATE IT.

Literally wrapped it up around it and ate it.

We also had a shovel and a tamp leaning against the dog kennel when it was eaten (this tamp being a 1&1/2 in piece of steel that is 7ft long and weighs about 25lbs). The shovel was completely destroyed, with the handle being snapped into about 5 pieces and the tamp was bent.

I didn't know it could be bent.

After this all happened and we were cleaning up the mess, this abesolute bastard of a tool fell over and hit me on the right side of my chest, right beneath my collar bone. I've since developed a huge knot and bruise, plus it fucking hurts.

So, we wrap that day up and go to the store the next day to get a new dog kennel, since my precious plants are now exposed to the dangers of the world. There goes $300 that no one had AND it's too big to fit in our truck, so we have to drive the 20 minutes home to get a trailer to then go back and get it.

With the kennel in tow we head home and get lunch on the way. My dad proceeds to drop the food in the floor board when it's handed to him and then when we get home and he goes to get out, he manages to kick the bag of food out onto the ground. 😑

We go back to work on the chicken run after eating our slightly smashed lunch and it feels like nothing goes right. Nothing is lining up, we forgot to measure a post before we buried it so then we have to pull it up and do it again, I almost tripped and fell about 50 times, you know....the usual shit.

Next day, aka, today. Get a call from the VET; they've been reviewing Ash's records from his last visit and have found that he has hook worms. He's an indoor cat and gets regular preventative medicine but whatever. Fuck me, I guess. Have to go pick up his medicine.

My dad and I gather up all the trash and head to the dump. EXCEPT THE DUMP IS CLOSED BECAUSE IT'S GOOD FRIDAY. While turning around to head back home, my dad backs up against a short pole that was sticking up out of the ground and slashes the back right tire.

There is no patching that shit, ladies and gentlemen. So there goes another $400 🙃

OH

And at some point in this last week of madness one of the cats was out in the garage and chewed through the wires on the garage door, so it has been out of commission for several days now. AND the same teething-bastard chewed through my headphone cord last night so I had to order a new set this morning. 😐

I'm done, y'all. I'm just done. I don't know if any of you can hook me up with someone to lift this curse, but please don't hesitate to help a girl out.

[rudolf-rokkr]

Heyo. I've been trying to get into more heathenry/norse paganism kinda stuff (what can I say, I love folk metal), but the one thing that's kind of been a damper on the concept for me is the concept of Hel - specifically, how (as I understand it) dying of sickness or old age is a form of cowardice and punishable by eternal torment. Being chronically ill myself, that doesn't really sit right with me. Do you have any thoughts/corrections/resources on this topic in particular?

Thanks for the question. Basically the image of Viking afterlife concepts that has entered popular culture is extremely shallow and not a good representation of what we know believe actually existed. This is a big topic so it’s easy to get lost but I’m gonna try to keep it simple without leaving too much out but feel free to follow up if it seems like I’ve missed something. It’s long so the rest is behind the break.

I’ll start with the major point I want to make and then we’ll fill in the “so what then?” after. The reason you’re disturbed by this is because it’s, at least partially, a recruitment tactic. It’s designed to tempt you to suspend your reason and even if it did apply to your personal situation you’re better off not falling for it.

I know some people find strength in the Valhöll idea and I don’t want to take that away from anyone but my uncensored opinion is that it’s for dupes. It’s full of people who wasted their lives in service to kings who didn’t give a shit about them, who used them to gain rule over them. Óðinn isn’t vetting them for bravery, he’s vetting them for certain personality traits that are bad for self-preservation but good for early proto-state-formation. That’s why it’s the afterlife we find out about from Snorri. He was a court poet, trying to piece back together a cosmology from shreds of court poetry that extolled the virtues of fearlessly taking an axe to the face in defense of your favored tyrant. Frankly, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to go to an afterlife where you have to die every day. I think this was more of a prestige factor among the living than an actual hope for the afterlife. I could be wrong though since the primary audience of such a myth would have been, like, 18-year-old kids hopped up on adrenaline, having just left the family farm for the first time in their lives, suddenly being adorned in gold and addressed by kings and making their first kills and drinking unending ale. Frat boys to whom the world is suddenly open (note that we’re mostly talking about higher class people anyway because they’re the ones who could afford weapons, so the world was already more open to them than others). Like the primary source for details about Valhöll is Vafþrúðnismál which rather likely was performed before an audience of these young, drunk warriors far from home (see Terry Gunnell for theories about performance of Eddic poetry).

So yeah, I could see them falling for this, or thinking it sounds appealing, or whatever. But at the same time I doubt anyone would have admitted out loud that killing each other all day every day for eternity would be awful (in fact it sounds a bit like the Buddhist hell Sañjīva but with good food). If it’s a real thing its full of people who can’t admit they’ve longed for Niflhel for centuries. 

That isn’t to say it can’t be a legitimate belief as well, just that this is its primary social function from the perspective of our sources. I’m sure that another motivating factor for the preservation and distribution of this belief is that those promising 18-year-olds also had families back home and maybe wives and kids and they were supposed to come home from exploiting the Karelians for the King’s tribute to take care of all this, and the pain of such a loss is made somewhat more mild by believing that these individuals have been called to the higher purpose of preserving the cosmic order. Not saying I agree, just that I get it.

(Note that in reality we have substantial evidence that the actual motivating factor for at least some “Viking” warriors wasn’t a glorious afterlife but rather they were mercenaries and maybe not even locals).

Now onto the next point. In Gylfaginning Snorri says that Óðinn decides where people go when they die and that good (siðaðir, literally more like ‘ethical’ I guess) people go to Vingólf or Gimlé (note: not the same as Valhöll; this might be where Snorri thinks good people who aren’t killed in battle go) and that bad people go first to Hel and then to Nifhel. The problem is that he’s full of shit. This isn’t corroborated anywhere. We can put the “full of shit” onus on Snorri the Christian who believed literally in an all-powerful God and Heaven and Hell, or we can put it Snorri’s depiction of Óðinn as Hárr/Jafnhárr/Þriði lying to Gylfi, but either way it’s obviously wrong and easily refuted.

For one thing there’s nothing moral about it. It’s just down to the manner of death. The greatest hero of Germanic mythology, Sigurðr Fáfnisbani, went to hel because he was killed in his sleep or stabbed in the back. And we know he went to hel because Brynhildr committed suicide in order to follow him. And according to skaldic poetry, King Hákon góði went to Valhöll despite not even being heathen because he died in glorious battle.

Grímnismál says that Freyja gets half the slain warriors; Þorgerðr Egilsdóttir (who is not a warrior) in Egils saga expresses expectation that she’ll spend the afterlife with Freyja. In Hárbarðsljóð Hárbarðr (Óðinn) makes fun of Þórr because he receives slaves into his halls rather than rulers like Óðinn does. Snorri himself tells us that Gefjun receives those who die as unmarried women which doesn’t apply to your situation but is another hole in the Valhöll/Hel paradigm. He also says that Rán (the sea-gýgr) takes those who die by drowning, which is corroborated by Eyrbyggja saga (chapter 54, when the drowned men show up to their own funeral, perpetually dripping wet).

Meanwhile, other than very specific parts of it that might be designated for people marked for obliteration from existence (this is based on lines in Vafþrúðnismál describing Niflhel as the place “whence men die out of hel,” what precisely that means is not obvious), we don’t have much reason to believe Helheimr is really so bad. Hel herself seems to thrive on death and decay and all that but I mean, it’s the world of the dead, that kind of seems to make sense and we can’t frame it according to our perspective as the living. On the other hand though, most of our evidence actually points to the world of the dead having a relatively strong sense of continuity with the world of the living. That seems to be why people were buried with their stuff – they weren’t done using it. 

Whether or not we should place Glæsisvellir or Ódáinsakr in the “world of the dead” (they get an association with Jötunheimar in some sources – it’s not clear if this is part of the Euhemerizing process where mythological places are mapped to geographical locations, or if Jötunheimar was part of the “world of the dead”) is unclear. Glæsisvellir ‘shining fields’ are a sort of “otherworld” more like what you normally see in Gaelic myth and legend that tend to show up a bit later in Norse mythology but seems to possibly play on things that show up as early as Ahmad ibn Fadlan’s description of the Rus’. It’s pretty much Valhöll for peaceful people. Ódáinsakr is a place within Glæsisvellir where there is no death and everything comes back to life. They’re usually ruled over by a very benevolent and hospitable jötunn named Guðmundr or Goðmundr (though split from the same origin, guð is used more for the Christian god and goð more for heathen ones, so calling him Goðmundr is marking him as heathen). Basically it seems to be Norse Elysium.

Finally, the afterlife that has the most support from the Íslendinga sögur, which means it’s probably the best reflection of the day-to-day beliefs of average people during the Viking age is some kind of continued existence in the landscape. The most clear description is in Eyrbyggja saga wherein it’s seen that the mountain Helgafell opens up to receive Þorsteinn þorskabítr and his companions; the mountain contained a whole hall full of people with fires burning and horns blowing and everything to welcome Þorsteinn. It was later discovered that Þorsteinn had drowned (note that this is the same saga I mentioned before where drowned sailors go to Rán).

Some scholars think that this is actually the origin of Hel and Valhöll. That they were just the continued existence of the dead, basically underground or living in rocks or other natural formations (like the elves do in Icelandic folklore). The abstraction of Hel and Valhöll from geographical location might have been part of the universalization/mobilization that some scholars propose for the development of the Óðinn cult (see: Tracing Old Norse Cosmology by Anders Andrén).

We also see a sort of double-afterlife in Helgakviða Hundingsbana II (a.k.a. Völsungakviða in forna) wherein Helgi has some kind of mobility between his burial mound and Valhöll… and then is later reincarnated.

Reincarnation pops up a couple times in Norse lore, this aforementioned poem being one of them. It actually says:

Þat var trúa í forneskju, at menn væri endrbornir, en þat er nú kölluð kerlingavilla.

‘It was a belief in heathen times that men would be reborn, but that is now called an old wives’ tale.’

It’s also implied in Flateyjarbók that Saint Ólafr is the reincarnation of an old heathen king who was worshiped as an elf in death, Ólafr Guðrøðarson (Ólafr Geirstaðaálfr). I did a post about reincarnation on my other blog that covers a lot of the same ground as this post.

Reincarnation is also a more or less fixed part of Urglaawe, a variant of modern heathenism focusing on the experience of the Pennsylvania Dutch (although these other afterlives are as well – just part of a process that ultimately results in reincarnation. To my mind such a view is perfectly compatible with everything else I’ve mentioned above).

The Wild Hunt does not factor much into Norse mythology but we have a pretty good idea that the concept was around based on its appearance in later folklore and its general wide spread across world cultures. It could possibly be related to the Valhöll afterlife concept, perhaps among a different class of people. We are pretty sure, for example, that Óðinn was popular in Denmark before Christianization and we are not able to connect him clearly to a ruling class like we are able to do with Norway (largely because of a general lack of literary sources for heathenism for that time or place). While no evidence compels us to do so, we have room for envisioning an Óðinn-centric afterlife that is not Valhöll, nor restricted to the upper classes. I mean he’s clearly a “god of the upper classes” but he’s no less a wandering hobo.

Anyway, the point so far is that there are lots of alternatives to the “Viking heaven” vs. “Viking hell” bullshit. This is probably not exhaustive and it partially conflicts. That isn’t surprising given that there is no centralized heathen authority and what we’re actually talking about is a huge variety of religious ideas that circulated differently along localities, social classes, time periods, social contexts, etc.

If we can point to something underlying all of this, it’s that there was believed to be some kind of continuity between life, manner of death, and afterlife. People dying in battle and going to Valhöll is, to my mind, an extension of this. “Those who die violently have a violent afterlife.” Whether or not that’s good will depend on the person, I’d imagine. Those who die in illness (and remember that there was a relationship between illness and trolls and elves or other unclean or vengeful spirits) may unfortunately find themselves in an afterlife characterized by fever and coughing and other unpleasant things. However the afterlife also seems negotiable, fluid, and furthermore determined at least partially by the activities of the survivors. When Ahmad ibn Fadlan attended a Rus’ funeral one of the Rus’ made fun of him because to him, the Muslim practice of burying the dead meant that the deceased would have to lie there in the ground while they decomposed, as opposed to the Rus’ who were cremated and thereby went immediately to the gods (by the way both burial and cremation happened under heathenism, so this is clear evidence of discontinuous religious belief among heathens and that we can’t call it “one” “religion.” Snorri associated burial and cremation with the cults of Freyr and Óðinn respectively in Ynglinga saga but of course he didn’t have all the archaeological evidence we do so we shouldn’t take that as necessarily true, but it’s interesting that he knew about both). We also see worship of the dead in the sources as the dead were considered to continue to have contact with the world of the living, for example by influencing crop yields and local weather patterns. Snorri’s Euhemerized history of the kings of Scandinavia exploits this to explain how the human king Freyr became a god – he was a human king who died and was worshiped as an ancestor at first before being reanalyzed as a god in the popular tradition. Though maybe not with Freyr specifically, this probably actually happened, even if more strictly localized, like in Vita Anskarii wherein it’s said that a certain King Erik was accepted by the gods as one of them when he died.

This is why I can’t help but think of Valhöll as “if you spend your life bootlicking you’ll spend death doing the same.” Indeed, even in the old sources, hierarchy in human society is replicated in Valhöll when Helgi Hundingsbani goes there and humiliates Hundingr by ordering him around.

We might also gain some insight by comparing other cultures that share beliefs in common with the pre-Christian Norse.  Though close reading of literature and comparative religion most people believe that the Norse did not believe in a single soul but rather something of a personal complex. We see this in other circumpolar cultures that also recognize things like the World Tree, ancestor worship, nature spirits, etc – that doesn’t mean we can just lift ideas from these other cultures but they do give real-life examples of how these abstract concepts can work in day-to-day life. Personally I have been very inspired by and influenced by Buryat Mongol belief and custom, especially because they themselves are often eager to share (reminder that it not being strictly “closed” does not mean that inappropriate appropriation is not possible). Buryat Mongols recognize three “souls,” each of which go their separate ways at death. One becomes a nature spirit, one which goes to the underworld and is eventually reincarnated, and another which becomes a bird on the world tree which is also eventually reincarnated (but, if I understand correctly, not along with the soul which had gone to the underworld). Among many such cultures going to the gods in the afterlife is a possibility, but a major exception to the norm. The reason I find this so interesting for this conversation is that if the Norse believed something similar, it would explain why our sources are in such conflict, how people can be going to Hel and living in the mound at the same time, how Helgi Hundingsbani can go to Valhöll and be reincarnated, etc. If you’re interested in learning more about Buryat Mongol belief try the site I already linked and also the works of anthropologist Katherine Swancutt (note that the families she stayed with had complete agency in determining what and how she would share what she learned… she talks a lot about this in Fortune and the Cursed: The Sliding Scale of Time in Mongolian Divination).

This next part is gonna be even more opinionated than what I’ve already written. I think it’s tempting to believe that people get what they deserve in death. That people who are treated unfairly in life are compensated in death and that those who were unfair themselves get their comeuppance. But to my mind heathenism lacks a mechanism for identifying or producing desert. That means it’s up to us, the living, and maybe those dead who continue to exert an influence on the world of the living, to vindicate those who were oppressed, or robbed of a good death; and to mitigate the legacy of unfairness. I do not believe that “the universe” or “wyrd” or whatever punishes wrongdoing – not because it wouldn’t be nice but because how exactly is that supposed to even happen? Do we really want to rely on gods who often act immorally themselves and use their supernatural abilities to exert their wills, to judge us? We might ask for their help, but we shouldn’t leave it in their hands. It would be great to take the burden off of ourselves but for better or worse, that’s where the burden is. This concept is a major spiritual informant to my belief in social justice, it’s (among many other things) a way to achieve a symbolic (and restorative, rather than retributive) equivalent to the social role of blood vengeance, for people who faced oppression. And what’s more, if we’re prepared to accept the possibility of reincarnation, then it actually is helping ourselves as well as our dearly departed awaiting rebirth in the underworld to make the world a better place for future generations.

Finally the last thing I want to say is that all of this is just theory. Not believing it doesn’t make you not heathen. We don’t have a Bible, there is no centralized authority, nobody living a thousand+ years ago was totally sure what happened in death – the lore we have received is just whatever models they came up with that best explained their experiences (probably especially mystical experiences of religious specialists, but still) and informed their behavior. For that matter, plenty of this shit is probably Christian speculation about what heathens believed anyway. If you have reason to believe otherwise it isn’t “un-heathen” to trust in your own ability to reason. Like, I think I did an alright job of framing my distaste for Valhöll in heathen discourse which just means it’s a productive set of religious beliefs that’s capable of autocritique. A person can’t possibly read the sagas and conclude that everyone agreed with each other all the time; variation, dissent, and creativity are generally speaking all good signs.

Hope this helps.

P.S. I know there are a lot of people who see entrance to Valhöll being granted to anyone engaging in struggle, whether physical or otherwise. I don’t agree, and if you’ve read this far you know I haven’t factored it into my understanding at all. But I don’t necessarily have a problem with it. I think it comes down to the active conception of “violence.” I do not believe that violence is strictly an act of causing physical damage to a person or object in a single event. I think that rearranging Valhöll to conform to a modern conception of violence that also includes systematic oppression is a literally incorrect way to interpret it according to Old Norse religion – but fuck it, my opinion of Valhöll is low as shit, so do whatever you want for all I care.