Just this side of heaven is a place called the 

Rainbow Bridge.


When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water, and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. 

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. 

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together... 

                                             ...Author unknown...  

LostWoods Zayne

21 May, 2011 - 23 May, 2011

Zayne was one of the Beautiful Litter. He was the first-born of five above average sized kittens. For the first 36 hours he gained weight like his littermates -- an active, normal baby. The next 24 hours he didn't gain and I decided that I would start supplementing him in the morning if he didn't put some weight on. Sadly when I went to check on him a couple hours later he had crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Unlike the first Zane, there was nothing obviously wrong with Zayne. I don't know why his life was so short. What I do know is that short as his life was, he was loved and he will be missed.

LostWoods Zane Zilar

6 February, 2008 - 9 February, 2008

Little Zane Zilar was one of Beau's Winter Gifts. He lost weight from the time he was born and I suspected there was something wrong from the beginning. I took him to our vet two days later and she confirmed my fears. Zane had a cleft palate (which can be caused by many different things.) I made the decision to say goodbye to him there rather than letting him suffer for any longer. Zane, you were a handsome little boy. I'm so sorry to never have had the chance to see you grow and play. 

LostWoods Zeta

31 December, 2006 - 6 January, 2007

Zeta was our New Year's Eve surprise after the vet only saw one big baby in the x-ray before she and her brother Fin were born. I was delighted with her arrival, except that she was very small and didn't seem to be interested in nursing. Shira and I paid lots of attention to her, feeding her, cleaning her, and cuddling her for a week. Unfortunately, Zeta never gained any weight and she left us much too soon.

LostWoods Sariyah

6 June, 2006 - 6 August, 2006

Sariyah crossed the Rainbow Bridge yesterday morning. The past week had been a real struggle and he was on antibiotics again. Some of the time he seemed as if he was responding, but he was sleeping a lot more than usual and I feeding him with a syringe to make sure he was eating enough. He was still interested in his wet food – toddling out to join everyone else when I’d call for the babies if I let him – but he wasn’t eating very much at a time. I’d taken to putting a bowl for him in the bathroom and shutting the door so the other fur kids couldn’t steal his food. Saturday evening we moved all the cats to the new house, including Sariyah. Sunday morning I heard him crying, so I went to check on him. He seemed a little cool, so I warmed up the Snuggle Safe again (he’d been sleeping with it the past week) and cuddled him between my body and the Snuggle Safe to warm him up. I tried to get him to eat some goats milk and baby food, but he wouldn’t take it – wouldn’t swallow even when I used the syringe. He died while I was cuddling him. One minute he was purring in my hands, the next he was gone.

Riyah had struggled the entire two months I was blessed with his presence, starting with his birth in the carrier at the vet’s office (after his only sibling was stillborn). Shira was so upset by the whole ordeal that she was not feeding him well, so I was supplementing him early on. After a couple days, she calmed down and everything seemed fine – until Sariyah was a week old and she went into heat. Again, I was supplementing for a week. When Shira went out of heat, she started taking better care of him and nursing again, but I’m just not sure there was enough milk at this point. We continued to supplement the little guy until he started eating well at about six weeks. At that point, Shira completely quit taking care of him. But by then, he was going up and down the stairs to find me, wandering into the kitchen to eat and coming as fast as he could (and he was really pretty fast) when summoned to breakfast and supper. I thought he’d start gaining well, now that he was eating solid food. But that wasn’t to be. He got an infection - probably because he’d never gotten good immunity from Shira and went downhill from there.

I try not to be superstitious, but it is like Sariyah just wasn’t meant to be. He was born on 06/06/06, the only living kitten in our 13th litter. He was a sweet, funny, adventurous kitten despite his small size and he always wanted to be around me and the other kittens. He was quick to purr – even when he was a couple days old he’d snuggle in my hands and purr with a big rumbly sound. That’s where he always was happiest, cuddled in my hands up next to my heart. But he did think it was great fun to swat at his older cousins and would follow them around trying to play. Now he is playing with his sisters Thunder and Zaleka, brothers Treven. Regalo, and Mirek, and a host of other beloved Wegies, not to mention my original Cloud who I hope has taken his little namesake under his paw.

LostWoods Mirek

May 2, 2004 - February 22, 2006

Mirek was one of the Heritage Babies. We'd been telling our son Jeremy that he could maybe have a kitten of his own one of these days. Well, he fell for Mirek almost as soon as Mirek was born and the timing was right. Mirek was a talker and his little chirps and meows were so cute to hear -- well except when he was complaining about being combed. Then Jeremy and I would affectionately call Mirek "whiney boy". Unfortunately Mirek was never a very healthy cat and we had to say goodbye to him much too soon. We hope he's happily playing with his brother Treven, half brother Regalo, and sister Zaleka over the Rainbow Bridge. 

LostWoods Zaleka

April 17, 2005 - May 1, 2005

Leksi was one of the New Companions -- not the biggest, but a big kitten for me. But as the litter grew, Leksi grew slowly until one day she stopped gaining and started losing weight. I did everything I could -- supplementing her with kitten glop, taking her to the vet for fluids, giving her antibiotics, keeping her warm. But it wasn't meant to be. On her two week birthday I found Leksi lying still on the blanket. Leksi was the 41st kitten born at LostWoods and the first I've lost. Sometimes breeding breaks a person's heart.

Firestorm Felix

(Crystalfjord Firestorm of LostWoods)

February 08, 2004 - June 28, 2004

Sometimes life is not fair at all. In early February 2004 I fell in love with a little red tabby boy. I didn't have a place for another cat, especially not another boy, but I was in love. When Sondra Evans came up with the idea that Gwena's family (Brenda and Jeff Mosal) needed a friend for Gwena and they'd be the perfect home for the little boy I wanted, I was thrilled when Brenda agreed. We couldn't wait to get our little guy and devoured every new picture as he grew.

At last the day came for us to pick him up at the airport. What a sweet kitten! Even in the car on the way home, he purred. That, perhaps, will always be my memory of Firestorm -- that he purred through everything, for everyone. I was so looking forward to the kittens he'd father and the rosettes he'd win at shows. He was such a handsome and wonderfully typed boy! Brenda and I made plans for him to visit my house often.

Those plans never happened. I had one weekend with Firestorm. He cuddled, he purred, he played, and he won what would be his only rosette. More than that, he won the hearts of everyone who saw him. I came home more in love than ever with him.

But I also came home concerned. Our little boy slept too much and played too little for a four month old kitten. He was far too thin, despite Brenda's efforts to put some weight on him. Two visits to the vet later, we had the diagnosis I'd feared. Firestorm had the wet form of FIP. In a very short time, we had to say goodbye. 

Felix, your time was cut unfairly short. Now you are free to chase bugs and feathers, to romp with the energy you haven't had for some time. On the other side of the Rainbow Bridge I know you'll grow into those big paws and fill out all the promise you showed when you were just a day old. I'll see you there one day but until then you'll  live in my heart and memory.     

Mrs Woolsey (Thunder)

July 21, 2002 - April 3, 2003

It rained last night – a wild storm filled with booming thunder and flashes of lightning, just like the night you were born. 

I remember watching in awe as your Shira-mom labored to deliver six wonderful kittens. It was past the midnight hour when her sides heaved with one last set of contractions and I exclaimed, “six kittens?!” Then I waited for your tired mom to clean you up. When she just lied there nursing the other babies in exhaustion, I picked you up and cleaned off your face. I made sure you were breathing, then finished cleaning you and cut your cord. Oh, what a voice you had! You cried for your mother and I placed you next to her face where she gave you a few tired licks. You cried more, but your Shira-mom was just too tired. So I put you next to her nipple and encouraged you to nurse. I watched while you struggled and Shira licked you some more. But you just didn’t seem to understand that food and warmth were right there. I cried as I talked to both you and your mommy, begging you to live.  I didn’t know what more to do. I watched and talked and cried for another hour, praying you’d make it. You seemed strong and sometimes acted like you knew what to do, but still you cried. I finally went to bed for a couple hours of sleep worrying that you wouldn’t make it through the night.

I rose with the sun to check on all of you and was so happy and relieved to see all six of you contentedly nursing. I interrupted for just a moment to weigh each of you and make sure all was well. You were small, but not the smallest – Lightning had that distinction.

Over the next weeks I watched you all grow and change from tiny beings with little knowledge of the world to active, alert, and curious fur balls. By the time you were two weeks old, you would hear my voice when I walked in the closet and come to me. I’d sit down near your bed and you’d climb onto my lap. Maybe we had a special bond because I’d helped when you were born. Maybe you were just showing me extra love then because you knew your time here would be short.

As you grew, you were a fearless explorer. You still found time for cuddles, but you were busy running and climbing, wrestling with your brothers and sisters, and exploring new frontiers. I called you “Trouble” because you always seemed to be right in the middle of whatever mischief was happening. I loved your wild spirit and your sweet ways.

Then came the day you left for your new home. I took you out of the carrier one last time at the airport and gave you a kiss. Burying my face in your fur, I cried because I’d probably never see you again. But I let you go, knowing that you’d be loved completely in your new home.

And you were. The love your Chris-mom had for you shined through every note she sent me, every picture.  But when she wrote and said you weren’t well, I worried and wished I could be there with you. Oh, I thought you’d get well and I’d see more pictures of my beautiful little girl growing into a lovely woman. Chris loved you and I knew she’d care for you with tender dedication. I never dreamed the day would come when Chris would write and tell me you were gone.

That news came almost a week ago and I still cannot think of losing you without tears. My heart is broken. I ache for your Chris-mom and her sadness. I grieve for the sweet kitten whose life was so short. I stare in disbelief at pictures of you, trying to understand that I’ll never see a new picture of you in all your mature beauty.

Thunder Bean, you were a kitten of my heart. I will see you someday at the Rainbow Bridge.



August 15, 1999 – March 7, 2001

Cloud, also known as Catzilla Flaming Tail, was the cat who inspired me to learn about Norwegian Forest Cats. No, he wasn’t a Wegie, he just looked a bit and acted a lot like one. Each morning he’d sit on the kitchen island and bump his head against my chin to say goodbye as I left for work. Each evening he’d run to meet me when I got home, purring madly. He’d sit on the island checking the mail with me and would steal things from my shopping bags to inspect. At night he’d come to bed and insist I arrange my hand in a certain way before he’d lie down, wrap his front paws around my hand, and put his head down. Like a typical male, he liked it best if there weren’t any clothes or bed linens between him and me. Cloud was well-behaved, but he never passed up a chance to look you in the eye and tell you with a passionate “meow!” how mean it was of you to make him get off the table. Cloud was a hunter, too. Snakes, birds and mice were not safe from him and he’d proudly bring them in the house to show them off, much to my dismay. Cloudy, my sweet and funny boy, I still miss you.



(Please note that you will see a number of photos of our cats and kittens that I've taken outside in a natural setting. The LostWoods cats do NOT go outside unsupervised! When we do go outside for pictures and occasional adventures, there is always one person and usually two watching them closely. We do have an outside, fully enclosed run to which the older cats are allowed access, but even then we check on them often.)

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