In Loving Memory

Tinkerbell

August 2, 1992 – August 28, 2011

It has been very hard to find the words and I get a bit emotional when I search my memory for how Tinkerbell touched my life. So I guess I will start at the beginning.

Tinkerbell came into my life when she was just 9 days old.  She was tiny, weighing about 3 pounds.  She was a brighter orange with darker black stripes than most.  Her fur was soft and long and her eyes were just starting to open up seeing the world for the very first time.  The tip of her little pink, wet tongue hung out of her mouth and you could hold her with one hand.   She stole my heart away with her first snotty snuffle from her little pink nose.

For those who don’t know, tigers make this great sound we at CARE call a ‘snuffle’.  In the zoo world they call it a ‘chuff’.  The sound is much like a “v” and an “f” sound at the same time.  If you can make the two sounds together then shake your voice as you do it, that’s what a snuffle sounds like.  This is their way of saying “hello”, “what’s up?”, and many other things which we will get into in a little bit.  The snuffle of a tiger is somewhat like the purr of a domestic cat.  It’s a tiger’s way of communicating, and they do it from the day they are born.  Their mother licks them and snuffles and the baby will snuffle right back.  When I met Tinkerbell for the first time I was in awe of how many snuffles could come out of a teeny 3 pound baby in just a few seconds.  Tink had an overactive snuffler.  We must have snuffled back and forth for several minutes before she fell fast asleep in my hands.  What a wonderful first meeting.

As I said before, snuffles can mean a wide variety of things, and Tinkerbell used her snuffles to fit many different occasions. It didn’t take Tink long to perfect the art of the “I love you” snuffle, the “I am sorry I made a mess, Mommy!” snuffle, and of course the “let’s go for a ride!” snuffle.  Within weeks of her arrival, she was up and terrorizing the dogs and getting into all kinds of trouble.    One time I came home to find her locked in the bathroom with the shower and window curtain torn down and shredded, there was soap and shampoo spread all over the bathroom, and one stinky load of poop right in the center of it all.  This is where she got the nickname “Stinky Tinky”. Every time I left the house I would come home to a mess and Tinkerbell was right in the middle of it.  So I found an answer.  Tinkerbell had to go wherever I went to assure she would not destroy my home or hurt herself.

On our trips into town she would play all kinds of cute games like, “Was that what I thought it was…CRASH game”, “How many holes can I put in this seat” and finally the “How long could I chew on the steering wheel before we have to turn?” game.   She became quite accustomed to riding in the car.  We would often have to drive to some ranch across the county to pick up dinner (a recently dead cow) and Tink would spring into action.  I would take her leash off and she would pounce onto the already dead cow to make sure was more deader-er before we loaded it.  At this time she was still the size of a medium dog.

By the time she was 6 months old it was time to let her go… well sort of.  She moved to the back porch with Jake the tiger, CARE’s mascot.  No more hugs and leashes, and kisses would have to be given through a sturdy fence.  Tinkerbell was a year younger than Jake but sure would give him a run for his money.  She was a bouncy crazy kitty.  For a little while after, and if I had the time, I would sneak her in the back door for some love, but that didn’t last long.  Tink grew up and became a tiger.  It is hard to watch them grow up, but you have to know when to let them go and to stop before their abilities become too much to handle.  Knowing these things is critical in our world. Holding on too long could end tragically.

Jake and Tinkerbell spent many years together.  They loved each other as much as two tigers could.  They slept together, ate together, and were much like a couple who had spent a lifetime together- and yes, they grew old together.  Sadly, Jake died years before Tinkerbell.  She was devastated.  She had lost all that she had known for the previous 15 years.  I became worried about Tinkerbell’s health.  She had always been husky, and now was very thin.  She stayed in her house, rarely coming out to say hi.  My heart wretched watching my “Stinky Tinky” slowly die of heart break.  There was nothing I could do to help her.

We then moved her to the vet center to spend her last days.  She would be surrounded by the love of interns, volunteers, and me.  I didn’t think she would make it very long, and I prepared myself for the worst.  It was just a matter of time.  The time ended up being 5 years!  Tinkerbell spent most of these years in the comfortable vet center.  She loved her mattress and pillows and blankets and toys.  Most of all she loved the love she received in the vet center.  Someone was with her on and off all day.  This gave her strength of spirit. It was what she needed to be happy again.  It was almost as if Tinkerbell had come home.

I was now watching an adult Tinkerbell regress back to her little baby self.  She would lie infantile on her bed with her arms wrapped around her “babies” (stuffed animals) just as I had held her that first day.  She would snuffle and whine for attention when anyone walked in the room, and yes, she still had her “overactive snuffler”.   Life had made a full circle.  It was as though my little “Stinky Tinky” was just 9 days old all over again.

Tinkerbell made it all the way to 20 years, which is amazing for a tiger.  She was a beautiful old girl who had seen many things, and snuffled many times. During the two weeks leading up to her passing, she started to get very tired and weak, and her snuffles started to become fewer and further in between.  She was getting ready for bed, and it was okay.  It was her time.  She was ready, and I was ready.  She wasn’t showing any signs of pain or discomfort, so I gave her the initial option to pass away on her own, but I wasn’t going to let her linger.  I prayed that my little baby would just go to sleep and not wake up.  It would be for the best.

One day, her snuffler stopped working, and I immediately knew that she needed help, so I made the hard call; the call I’ve made many times in the past, and the call I’ll almost certainly have to make in the future- the call to put her down.  By the time Dr. Jeff Williams came out (Dr. Bill was on vacation), Tinkerbell couldn’t even lift her head, and she had used the very last bit of her strength to move her body to the exact middle of her enclosure.  This is an animal’s way of saying goodbye- they try to get as far away as possible, and then they lie down and wait to die.  We didn’t want her waiting any longer, we had already said our goodbyes, and we were all ready.  Dr. Jeff worked quickly and efficiently, and Tinkerbell softly drifted away.  Her body would snuffle no more.

It is always so very difficult to say good bye to a CARE friend, and in the case one of my dearest children. They walk on this earth such a short period of time yet touch our hearts in ways they have never been touched before.  I wish for you all to remember the joy we all found in the life of Tinkerbell.  She was a light that will forever shine bright at CARE.

Kira

April 1996 – August 24, 2011

Twelve years ago our organization lost its first tiger.  I cried for hours that day. That night my then 2 year old daughter, Destiny, crawled into bed with me, put her arm around my neck and said, “Mommy why do you cry?”

I told her, “Gabby died.  It makes me very sad because I will miss her”.

She looked at me with absolute sweet innocence in her beautiful eyes and asked the following question- “Mommy, when tigers die and go to heaven do they get white wings or stripedy ones?”

Those beautiful words have stayed close to my heart for the past 10 years, and every time we lose one of our beautiful babies, the words come back to help ease the pain of loss.

Yesterday afternoon CARE tragically lost one of its most beloved animals, Kira, to rapid kidney failure.  Kira was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever experienced.  She was the largest female tiger I had ever seen, and yet for all her size and imposing figure, she was as gentle as a kitten.  She loved to hold hands/paws, and she would lie on top of her house and press her feet up against the fence so you could touch them.  She was unquestionably the least aggressive tiger at CARE, and the personal favorite of too many people to count.  She had a wonderfully unique way about her, and if you ever met her in person you would understand what I mean.  She had eyes which could pierce your heart, and she was always good for a ‘hello’.   She truly had an overwhelming presence built of love, peace, and affection.

During the last days of her life, she was surrounded with the love of those in her human family.  We kept near-constant 24-hour vigilance; quietly monitoring her condition, keeping her comfortable, and soothing her with a soft-spoken word or a gentle scratch behind the ears.  Although she was 17 years old (Grandma-age for a tiger) her sudden decline and death came as a tremendous shock.  She was always so hearty and healthy.  Throughout her life she had never been sick or showed signs of aging.  She looked just as she did when she was 2 years old- beautiful and strong.  I guess we should all be so lucky to age as gracefully as she did (which was seemingly nonexistent).

Kira’s adoptive mom wrote to me, “A great heart is silent. The earth is a poorer place”, and I couldn’t have said it better.  I feel everyone who knew Kira was better for it.  She was a bright light at CARE.  Her spirit will continue to live through those who were blessed by her presence.   For those of you who have eyes filled with tears and a heart heavy with loss, just remember… there is now a tiger in heaven with perfect “stripedy” wings.

Sprinkles

September 1, 1991 – July 12, 2011

Words do not seem adequate to paint a picture of Sprinkles, for she was a lion one needed to experience. She had such a presence. She had a painful beginning in her young life, which made it difficult for her to trust at times, but she overcame this and lived a long and peaceful life. Underneath her sometimes guarded exterior, she had a huge heart. She was beautiful, strong, independent, wild, intelligent, loving and faithful. Sprinkles was an old soul. Her eyes spoke volumes, and her spirit exuded kindness and love. One only had to look deeply into her eyes to feel her love. To her adoptive mother she was not only a friend, but a soul mate. She will be deeply missed. But, at last she can follow her heart’s desires – running freely over wild plains or basking under the glow of savanna sunsets.

Written by Sprinkles’ Beloved Mom Marsha

KC

September 11, 1990 – June 10, 2011

CARE is greatly saddened by the loss of one of its brightest burning sparks, KC the tiger. For years KC was the oldest cat in the entire facility, but her spirit was always youthful, and she never let a little thing like advanced age slow her down. By all means, she was a TIGER. She was the definite article, the real deal. Now that is not to say that CARE’s other 35 tigers are not tigers to the core, because they are most definitely so, it’s just that KC was different. In her movements, in her actions, and in her eyes she was a true example of all the things which makes a tiger a tiger- she was fierce, proud, intuitive, instinctual, and beautiful. She was a straight shooter, and you could always expect KC to be KC. She walked her own walk, and she sang her own tune, and even when she passed the 20 year mark (VERY old for tigers) she still held herself so strong, as if there was a divine fire burning hot inside of her.

We love you KC, and we hope you’re running free and majestic wherever you are. We’ll miss you!

Jake

September 1, 1991 – July 24, 2006

Jake is our facility mascot. He had been purchased as a pet and abandoned at three months old without food for nearly 2 weeks. His feet were horribly infected and his digestive tract was dysfunctional. For months, Jake teetered between life and death. With the love from all who encountered him, including his mate Tinkerbell, Jake miraculously lived. Jake was unanimously chosen to represent CARE. His tireless determination to overcome his earlier nightmare is incomparable. For 15 years Jake struggled with pain in his feet, due to the crippling declawing. Finally Jake’s pain is over. Jake passed to a better place, without pain.

Brutus

One of the most beautiful creatures that ever blessed the grounds of CARE was our Brutus or “Papa” as he was often called. Many years ago, with no where to go, a terrified and angry African Lion found his home in Bridgeport. His life of abuse and neglect were evident by the scars on his face. No one could escape his awesome presence, incredible power, and great demand for respect. Endless love, compassion and selflessness given by the CARE family allowed Papa to become the cornerstone and protector of all who entered the gates of CARE. We celebrate the 15 years of trust and love he learned to share. On October 30, 2005, due to old age, Brutus (Papa) was laid to rest at the estimated age of 23. We celebrate the phenomenal life and gift of Papa and all the dedicated individuals he grew to love.

Malachi

A beautiful leopard arrived in Bridgeport in August of 1993. He was frightened and wild. Without his new home he would have been euthanized due to his extreme aggressive behavior with his past owners. After several months of intensive and constant love Malachi realized he could trust humans. He became one of the gentlest spirits to bless the grounds of CARE. He was happy and strong. Unfortunately in the summer of 2005 the nightmare of his early life returned to haunt Malachi and all of those who grew to love him. He was viciously declawed before his arrival. Now, twelve years later a mass grew on his foot. The claws had been growing inside his foot. Tireless months of care and four surgeries were followed with the heartbreaking news, cancer of the foot….leg…then finally, the lymph nodes.  Malachi’s life was over soon after the news. Malachi will be greatly missed.

Adderly

Each cat at CARE is unique and special, but Adderly was particularly special as he sought over the years to tame his wildness, and to share this beautiful spirit with those who were close to him. It wasn’t easy for Adderly. Even though he was born in captivity; he especially exuded the spirit of his ancestors in the wild. He preferred to be alone, and somewhat distant from his human companions. Deep down he desired to express his loving spirit, but his wild instinct seemed to take over, making it hard for him to be with people. His spirit was beautiful in itself, but as he grew older, he made a courageous transformation. The love within him began to take over, and he allowed people to come in and share his beautiful soul. It wasn’t easy for him, as he straddled two worlds. Yet, I believe that was his greatest gift-sharing such a wild spirit and sharing love. He was unique and special, and will be greatly missed. Adderly died peacefully in his sleep, December 5th, 2006 at the age of 20.

Momma

Momma arrived 14 years ago terrified, and in desperate need of love. Momma came to CARE with a kind heart, despite her previous abusive home. She was Brutus’ loyal companion, as he was her strength and protection. Side by side, they began their journey together. They learned to trust their new surroundings, and accepted the unconditional love given to them at CARE. From that point on, they were home. Their roars were proud and strong, as they became the “pride” of CARE. Thank you for donating your time and love to CARE. Your giving has allowed Momma to live peaceful fulfilling life that she rightfully deserved. In this time of mourning for our loss, we are reminded that Momma is in a better place. Her spirit is now whole again as she is reunited with her soul mate, Brutus. Together, their spirits will live in our hearts. The story of Brutus and Momma will continue to inspire us. Hopefully, they will remind all of us that together we can embrace life and make a difference.

Whitey

Many years ago I saw something that would change my world….a beautiful baby tiger. I never in my wildest dreams could imagine something more beautiful. It truly took my breath away. It was the most beautiful experience I had ever had.

This day started when I heard a noise. I ran to find out what all the commotion was about and found a baby white tiger taking its first breaths of earthly air. He was perfectly beautiful. The first snow white tiger we had ever had. I immediately fell in love with the little fuzz ball. I called him Whitey, obviously a temporary name that would be changed later when a better one that fit his personality would arise. Well…the day never arrived.

Whitey grew fast, as do all tigers. He was full of his own adversity with eye surgeries. I have always grown attached to the underdog, so Whitey was a perfect fit for me. We spent many months recovering from surgeries and loving each other in the comfort of my home. When it was time for him to grow up, he left me for Calamity, who became his life long mate. Being tigers the two were more independent and solitary than the family oriented lions. They lived together but were separate spirits. All was well.

As with all stories there is a beginning middle and an end. The end of the story begins with a diagnosis of malignant melanoma for Whitey. A massive tumor arose from no where and had massed to soccer ball sized in the matter of two weeks. He only had a matter of weeks to live. With great sadness people filed in to give the regal man one last good-bye.

I spent the night with him a few days ago as he recovered from anesthesia after his biopsy. The cold blustery December wind blew and a cold mist fell over us like a blanket. As I looked at the bright Texas stars, I shared with him stories about our past together, including the times I would ride on his back, I many pounds lighter and he much stronger. I told of stories of rubbing sore gums while he was teething and soothing an upset belly. This was long ago when I was able to hold him in one hand. Now I held his massive paw with deepened sadness. The same paw I spent years trusting with my life.

I had difficulty leaving him the next morning. I knew I would not have the time to be with him all the time due to all of the other work at CARE. Calamity was quite distant and detached, as a tiger would be in such a situation…staying far away. In the following weeks, in which Whitey would take his last breaths somewhat alone, saddened me greatly. I wish I could bring him back to my home he lived in as a cub, and love and hold him in his final days. As you all know it is impossible.

Today is yet another cold, wet blustery Texas day. I worried about Whitey alone in the cold. At daybreak I rose to check on my old friend. I could not find him anywhere. It was as though he was gone. I frantically ran back to the house where Calamity laid. With tears in my eyes I yelled where is he?…and over her back rose the massive head of Whitey. He laid his chin on her back. What an amazing site to behold. Whitey was not alone. Calamity now cared for him. This again was the most beautiful experience I had ever had.

Within days, Whitey made his final journey to the running grounds of Brutus, Maji, Momma, Malachi, Jake and the others who have taken the trip before him. They lead his spirit without fear to the other side. As I laid beside his motionless body saying my last good-bye, I realized how blessed I was to have this wonderful man in my life. I know he will remember how much he was loved in this life. With my final kiss on his still warm nose I realized yet again this was the most beautiful experience I had ever had.

Tabby

About 5 years ago Tabby began to deteriorate in health, which is normal for a 17 year-old tiger. As days went by, she showed signs of a desire to make her final journey. Several months later she fell to depression and sickness: she would not leave her house, sores appeared all over her body—we knew we had to do something quickly. This is when we moved Tabby to the vet center. Her health improved immediately with the love and attention offered there. We then moved her back to her outdoor enclosure, where her health again took a turn for the worse. This process happened 3 times in the following 6 months until she finally did not have the strength to stand. I went to her enclosure, very sullen, and sat with her trying to make the decision if she was able to make the trip just one more time. The interns brought the transport cage to her enclosure. After coaxing her, Tabby (literally, falling side to side) staggered into the transporter.

We brought Tabby to the life-giving vet center, which is where she has lived for the past 5 years with a small indoor and outdoor area. She had a mattress to keep her tired bones comfortable as well as pillows and blankets and many stuffed animals (her “babies”) to play with. She carried her “babies” as if they were her own, cleaning and loving them, almost as if she were giving them life and they giving life to her. Her greatest gift of all was not in what people had given to her, but that of what she had given to them. It may be our love and interaction that had given her the desire to live the past 5 years, but it is her overwhelming strength and love that keeps us going even today. Tabby passed September 22, 2008 at the wonderful age of 22.

Lacy

I can’t say Good-bye to my best friend…

We think of best friends as those who are:

Always there for us
Never judgmental
They make you laugh when you want to cry
They make you cry when you need to cry.
One touch of their hand gives clam to a troubled heart
The memories you share are both bitter and sweet
They are there to celebrate the good times
They more importantly do not leave your side no matter how bad the outlook.
There is something about having a best friend that makes the world okay

I can’t say Good-bye to my best friend…

I was there for her at nine days old. I held her and kissed her, fed her and cleaned her and she grew. I loved her and she loved me. She was there when I married and for the birth of my children. She was there for me when I divorced and I thought the world would end. She brought me back to my feet always lending me her heart when I needed it most. I may have helped her take her first steps, but she has been the one who has kept me walking forward, ever since.

We spent the last week together. I had to be with her in the end. When the life left her body I wanted to say good-bye to my best friend. It is so hard to say goodbye to someone who has been with you through so much of your life… I guess I prefer saying until we meet again.

I can’t say good-bye to my best friend

Her name was Lacy.
We spent 18 years together.
She was my first tiger.
I will miss her.

Until we meet again my sweet best friend – Heidi Berry