June 29, 2015

This is the 4th time I've written this. It keeps being eaten, or the last one didn't post. Is it a sign, or just pissing me off? I don't know. I HAVE TO GET THIS OUT.

I lost my fur babies today.

Strange phrase. It's because we hate saying the awful truth. I know where they are. Lost implies that they will return. Could be found.

They died. Cold hard truth.

I found Pai Pai this morning after I got up. He looked asleep. It took me a while to realize he wasn't. He'd not followed me into the bathroom or been waiting by my face for me to get up. I haven't been able to go to the bathroom alone hardly, for about 15 years.

He was still...soft.

My best friend came to help me find a nice spot for him. My man, as humans do, had obligations but was "with" me and has been all day. He is still with me.

I had a good cry. opted later for humor, and went to work. Distraction. But I was in shock, too. Pai was healthy as far as I knew. Fine, just fine. I was trying to accept that maybe I'd never know why. It was so bizarre. It looked like he simply went to sleep forever. Cats are masters at hiding issues. Survival instinct. They adapt until they can no longer adapt.

Loki may have been a bit confused before I left about having the run of the place. And he had a short spell. Dizzy? I didn't know. Then just fine. He ate a bowl of wet food. Affectionate. Okay. Off to work.

I came home a few short hours later. He greeted me. Talking (he spoke several languages, thought I was his real mother) purring, pet me pet me. Cuddles.

But then he started breathing hard. Then he wouldn't eat tuna. HE LOVES TUNA.

Tried to puke.

I knew.

He started panting. He never does that. I knew. I could do nothing after a while. He didn't want to be held. He was restless. I know how they are. They want to go off and hide.

He went into the other room. I had already texted my friend and boyfriend. They knew, though didn't say just then, either. They were with me when it happened, as it were. Strings of texts from my man, I could hear his tone. It let me know he was there. I think he cried, too. He loved them, too.

I knew a vet wouldn't matter. I just knew in my gut. I was already ugly crying. I was asking the universe to make it quick. Don't let him suffer hours, or even days. Not minutes. I begged. I had actually said it that morning after the strange spell. I guess I knew even then. Just let him sleep. Don't let him suffer.

Forgive me but this may be slightly graphic. I have to get it out. I must. To cope. To process. Accept.

It wasn't exactly a seizure. He was fighting. And trying to run away from "it." I think he couldn't breathe. I think he strained very hard. He was all over the place. I've never seen an animal...move... Like that. Just...I can't say it. I cannot unsee this. I never will. It is the most terrifying horrible awful thing I've ever seen. He was positively all over the place, feet at a time. So. Fucking. Awful.

I'm traumatized. But...Loki suffered more. And I'm alive.

I ugly ugly cried and made myself watch as I could, to tell him I was there, to tell him he could let go. I begged and begged and begged for it to stop, just let it be over. I almost screamed once or twice, I think. Maybe I did.


He went so very stiff. And it was so very messy and ugly and I couldn't touch him for the longest time, it was so fucking awful. He must have been so scared and in pain and oh my god.

I reached out to you, then. He was still warm when I typed. Many of you gave me your love and I thank you for it. I needed it. I couldn't do it alone. I was weeping, but I typed, I don't always reach out, but I needed you and you answered. It hurt so much.


My best friend to the rescue again. We found a nice place for Loki. A crow kept calling out. Like a sign.

I've been philosophical since then, and my friend distracted me with drinks and food. But then I came home, and it's too FUCKING quiet. No talking. Purring. No Pai Pai squeaks. I've ugly cried again, and trickled and leaked again, and it comes and goes.

Too quiet. Loki would always answer me. We'd talk back and forth. About what, I didn't always know. Sometimes I did. But he knew. And he was happy.

I'm missing Pai fierce right now, too, because usually he'd be rubbing against my feet while I sit and type. He's not. He's not here.

Some think Loki died of a broken heart because he was second. I do believe that can happen. But grief doesn't go the way this did. He suffered. SUFFERED. It probably wasn't so long, but it felt like forever. I know it wasn't my fault, but I feel guilty all the same. I couldn't do anything. One second of suffering was too much. He was so sweet.

I've decided that Pai Pai knew. He went first. He was very close to Loki when I found him. Other side of the baby gate I often kept up in later years, because though they had always been cuddle buddies and playmates, eventually they started vying for dominance. It seemed neither ever won. Sometimes I'd take the gate down and supervise. They'd touch noses and meow and be nice. I was the alpha.

Even still. They always swatted and kissy faced through the gate. They had a bond I've never seen. They were also personalities I've never felt, before. They were...higher beings. My BFF thinks so. I think he's right.

Pai Pai knew. They were nose to nose as much as they could be, when I found him. Loki seemed to have already accepted that Pai wasn't waking up. I think Pai Pai knew that Loki was going to die. He went to sleep first, and waited. He wanted to be there to comfort and embrace his brother, after such a scary end. 

I like to think that. It might even be true. I think it could be. I will never truly know. But I do think they are together. One couldn't live without the other, that much is probably true. Pai Pai was very intuitive. He really may have known that his brother was going to meet his awful end sometime soon. I even think in his way, Pai Pai prepared me, as well.

It's some comfort, at least. And I had 15 years with these amazing beings. That's damned good odds for a cat. 

I think of how, if I had been busier at work, I wouldn't have had to watch Loki die, perhaps.'s right that I did, no matter how horrifying. To bear witness was the least I could do. In fact I could have stayed at the shop, but I kept having this nagging feeling I wanted to go home and see Loki. Paranoid? Sure. That could have been it. Premonition? 


I got to cuddle him one last time. Brush him. Talk to him. And tell him that it was okay to be with his brother. Where I'm sure they don't fight any more. Or if they do, it's just for fun, as I suspect sometimes it might have been when they were alive. Not always. But sometimes.

I will miss you forever, boys. Thank you for having me. I'm crying again. One day maybe I won't. Maybe one day I will look into the eyes of another creature and see you there.

I'd like that. Come find me. I'll wait. Give me some time, though. 


June 10, 2015

This may be brief, but it will be light and happy, because we can all use some help with that sometimes, yes?

What makes you smile? I mean the little things, because those are the things that matter most. The things we should never let pass us by without notice. What makes you smile, always, every time you think of it, or see it? What gives you peace? The warm fuzzies? 

Some of mine:

The way his scent lingers on my skin long after he's gone.

The constant zen sound of an ocean, that taste of salt ...

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What to do when...aka (deep breath, be brave, S).

May 26, 2015

What do you do when you feel…well, you can’t even describe what you feel, not adequately. How can people help when it appears to them you don’t want their help, or can’t tell them how to help, or they don’t know what to do, regardless?

Sometimes help is simply about listening. Being. Platitudes may serve to stoke resentment and more depression, cause a person to think their feelings are dismissed, even when that isn’t the intention. They hurt, because out there, in the wide world, ...

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You are what you write. Sort of.

April 20, 2015

A quick post with a few thoughts...

Are writers present in their characters?

Of course they are. Even the authors who say they aren't. Even in the nastiest, most-opposite-of-you character. The reason is simple: they are written through our filter of the world. Our POV.  Some characters have more of us in them than others, and I'm sure you can have many discussions on all of the reasons.

Are writers present in their narratives? 

Well of course. Even in non-fiction, no matter how unbiased, once aga...

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A word on derivatives

December 30, 2014

Fan-fiction. It used to be a very secretive topic. Taboo, for most. Divisive. It is still these things for some, though these days, people are far more open about it. Heck, some have even been published after first writing derivative fiction.

But I'm not here to talk about the legalities (as there are laws in place when it crosses a line) or whether it's morally right or wrong. And of course, any author has every right to dislike it, and take legal action when it crosses a line. They have ever...

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You look constipated, AKA, lighten up.

December 9, 2014

For the three or so of you that have been reading, this blog will fit into a theme that I am still exploring in different forms, and have been for a few posts. For the one new person that might come along, hey! I hope you can relate.

It's that time of year, where some are depressed, some are trying to enjoy it, and some are just plain Scrooges. Many people do have a reason to feel sad about now, but I think that makes this all the more important...

 What I wonder, is how many honestly feel curm...

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Negative naggies

November 5, 2014

Yes, I just made that up: naggies. It suits them well. I'm not speaking of other people, but our own thoughts. Our own little voice that we are told to listen to. But sometimes not. Because sometimes it's a damned negative, nagging, nincompoop. It leaves behind these ninja bombs sometimes, too. The ones you don't immediately notice, not until later when BOOM, they go off in a cloud of blackness.

Now, I'm not saying to ignore your gut instincts. I don't necessarily think our guts use that littl...

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That's a good question...

October 28, 2014

I'm sitting here, eating entirely too many potato chips, thinking wow; I should blog. I then say, "Oh yeah, about what?? I have nothing to say."

But then again, I do, don't I? Though it's just bits and streams and nonsense, perhaps. Things you don't care to read...perhaps.

This then reminds me that I haven't touched one of my WIPs (novels) for...ehem. I shall not say. 

I need a kick in the butt. A shove. Someone yell at me. Tell me I can do it. Tell me what evil shall befall me if I don't. Where...

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July 17, 2014

I debated mentioning this yet, but it would seem I am going ahead with a few things I've been mulling over. Not only that, it's been some time since I updated, I know.

So some news, all wrapped up in one tidy blog post;

Anatomy of Darkness is to have a European release, no doubt with new cover, February-ish. If this changes, I shall inform you all.

Paris Immortal, the series, is coming back home to me. In other words, I believe I will be obtaining all the rights to it very soon. This will likely...

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Brain dump (aka Keys to the Kingdom)

May 8, 2014

I'm sitting here, mind wandering as it often does- particularly when I've decided I need to be doing something- and it got stuck on a loop of what it means to be a creative person. The frustrations we must all have in common.

Such as this issue: what is in your head is not what always comes out through your fingers. It's never quite this enough, that enough, ___ enough. Even when other people say it's great, part of you always thinks well, thanks but if only...

Of course you really shouldn't sa...

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Goals aka The Run

Posted by Sherry Roit on Thursday, March 17, 2016 In : opinion piece 

Went for a run just now. Third day in a row, after having run once a week for the last three weeks. I thought to myself, self? Just an easy run today. Right calf is a bit stiff, you will be lucky to make two miles. But two miles is good, and it's better than no miles.

So I'm out doing my thing. It's a lovely, sunny day. I'm sore, but not enough to allow myself to stop. I say to self, self? Get that first mile. Okay, got it. Surely we can get that second. Sure...okay. Let's do it.

So I did it, a...
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Posted by Sherry Roit on Monday, February 22, 2016 In : Writing 

It's a scent
           a sigh
A caught breath when finger brushes thigh

The very thought of you
  sound of you
  sight of you

You're an idea 
A constant presence
You're an ache never cured
  a longing
  an itch

Scratch Scratch
leaving trenches
Still not satiated, just left bloody

It's maddening
    you're madness

...sanity's overrated.

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For R

Posted by Sherry Roit on Wednesday, February 17, 2016 In : Writing 

I don't know all the reasons I am
who I am

I only know I'm human and do the
best I can

Certainly, I've not meant to make you 
feel less-than

If I had, believe you me, there'd be
no question

Is an apology worth the words if I'm
not sure why

Something I have never wanted is for life to
be a lie

So just know, from the bottom and middle
of my heart

I thank you for the patience you've shown me
from the start

Know that I love you more than any 
words will tell

And that a world without you would be my
version of hell....

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Unsolicited advice. <3

Posted by Sherry Roit on Monday, February 15, 2016 In : opinion piece 

Money. Still the number one relationship killer. I have a tip.

Keep a minimum of three bank accounts. (Or don't ever get a joint account in the first place.)


You pay into the joint account for shared expenses (rent, utilities and so on) and then you have your own money. You then agree, and must STICK by this agreement, that what the other person does with their personal account, is not your concern. No matter how frivolous it seems. Do I really need to say that no advice in ...

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In the moment.

Posted by Sherry Roit on Friday, July 17, 2015 In : Personal 

Sitting in the sun on 'our' bench letting thoughts stream. I wonder if I can come up with a blog post. I wonder if I can let go of some things and just be. Be free to feel. Oh, I feel, but to feel all the time without the baggage of thoughts -- specifically doubts!

Is feeling all the time too much? I don't really think so. It's the conditions we place on the feeling that fuck us up. Thinking too hard.

Does everything happen for a reason, is there a reason for everything? In the most literal sen...

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