Podul Curcubeu

[Gemon]

In memoriam ...


"...Exista un pod care uneste Cerul si Pamantul. Se numeste Podul Curcubeu pentru ca are multe culori.
Chiar de aceasta parte a Podului Curcubeu, este un tinut de pajisti, dealuri si vai, cu iarba verde peste tot.
Cand un animal iubit moare, el se duce in acest loc. "

[Jo]

Ma bucur ca ai pus asta aici . O sa pun versiunea completa, pe care mi-ai trimis-o cand a murit Fluffy, primul nostru porcusor. Povestioara aceea m-a ajutat mereu in clipele grele si sper sa ajute si altor parinti ajunsi in situatia aceea dureroasa.

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called 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...."

[interzis]

Pe forumul gemon.ro in versiunea maghiara nu am gasit podul curcubeului. Va pun aici versiunea tradusa:

A Szivárvány Híd
A Mennyország és a Föld között létezik egy hely, amelyet Szivárvány Hídnak neveznek.


Ha egy állat, aki nagyon közel állt valakihez a Földön, örökre elmegy, a Szivárvány Hídhoz kerül. Legelők és dombok zöldellnek mindenütt, ameddig a szem ellát. Kedvenceink itt egész nap játszhatnak és futkározhatnak. Mindenük megvan: rengeteg ennivaló, friss víz, ragyogó napfény. Sosem fáznak, nyugalom és béke veszi körül őket. Minden állat, aki beteg és öreg volt, visszanyeri egészségét és fiatalságát, a sérült, béna állatok újra épek és erősek, pont mint amilyennek emlékeinkben látjuk őket. Az állatkák önfeledten boldogak. Egyetlen dolog árnyékolja be örömüket: mindnyájuknak hiányzik az a különleges ember, akit hátrahagytak a Földön.

Együtt szaladgálnak és játszanak, mikor egy napon az egyikük hirtelen megáll és a távolba réved. Élénk szemei fürkésznek valamit. Törékeny teste megremeg, majd hirtelen szaladni kezd, elhagyva társait. Szinte repül a zöld fű fölött, lábai egyre gyorsabban viszik.

Aztán észrevesz téged. Rég nem látott kedvenced boldogan öleled magadhoz. Soha többé nem váltok el. Örömteli puszik az arcodon, kezeiddel újra megsimogatod kedves fejét. Még egyszer kedvenced csillogó szemeibe nézel: elvesztetted őt, de szívedben mindvégig ott volt.

És átkeltek együtt a Szivárvány Hídon...

Paul C. Dahm: A Szivárvány Híd

[Jo]

. . . you clean their cage more than your house.

. . . you redecorate their cage more than your house.

. . . you spend every weekend at cavy shows.

. . . you get a job of designing cavy hutches.

. . . you call in sick if your cavy gets a cold.

. . . you have to buy a second refrigerator just for them.

. . . you use a baby monitor to make sure your cavies are okay.

. . . your new car is a van, because the cavy's cages fit better for when you go on pignics.

. . . you resolve to save more money, but end up buying a bigger cavy condo.

. . . your answering machine message reads "please wheek your message after the tone".

. . . you won't get up at 5 am to take your medicine, but drag yourself out of bed to feed the pigs.

. . . all they have to do is look at you to get a kiss and a carrot.

. . . you do all your grocery shopping only to realize that you forgot your own food.

. . . you spend more time in feed stores than in grocery stores.

. . . you get more upset over the price of lettuce and carrots than the price of beef.

. . . you buy vegetables you've never even heard of, before you adopted your cavy.

. . . you feel guilty eating a salad in front of the babies without offering them any.

. . . you make calls all over town for Timothy Hay, rather than feed them mediocre hay from the pet store.

. . . you look at the vitamin C content of the vegetables before the price per pound.

. . . you go to get a snack and end up giving it to the cavies instead.

. . . your friends go to the fridge and ask, "Okay, what's NOT for the cavy?".

. . . you got out to dinner and take food from the salad bar home for your cavy.

. . . you can't surf the internet without a cavy in your lap.

. . . your cavy has her own Personal Profile, which can be read by everyone on Yahoo.

. . . you buy a digital camera to take pictures of your cavies so you can show them off online.

. . . you buy a color printer just so you can print the digital pictures of your cavies.

. . . you schedule your plans around your cavy's schedule.

. . . each time you pass the cage you have to stop and pick the flecks of bedding out of the food dish.

. . . holding your cavy is the high point of your whole day.

. . . you refer to them as "my babies".

. . . you are on a first name basis with your vet.

. . . your cavies have their own room, but your children share one.

. . . discussing your piggies in public, kindly old ladies ask you "...and how old are your little girls?"

. . . you can't go to bed at night unless you've held your cavies in your arms to kiss each one goodnight.

. . . you leave a nightlight on for them.

. . . you catch yourself singing the song you made up for your cavies - while at work.

. . . your cavy breaks a tooth and you play "toothfairy" by putting a few dimes under its hay.

. . . you've visited more caviaries than national monuments.

. . . you ask your friends to keep an eye out for dandelion patches.

. . . a trip to visit relatives includes not only the usual suitcase, but one or two cavies.

. . . you let your cavy ride in the front seat.

. . . you address birthday and greeting cards from you and your cavies.

. . . your family doesn't recognize you without a cavy in your lap.

. . . your cavies make raw veggies actually look GOOD to eat.

. . . the mailman brings more guinea pig mail than letters addressed to occupant.

. . . you spend more time in the caviary than the house.

. . . you consider putting a telephone in the caviary.

. . . the vet bills for your cavies are higher than your kids' doctor bills.

. . . your six your old daughter wants to become a cavy farmer.

. . . you put your piggie's tub on the kitchen counter so they can watch you bake a cake.

. . . you've been on a vacation and you only bring presents back for your cavies.

. . . your friends tell you they are coming back in the next life as one of your cavies.

. . . you're a film student and you're trying to figure out a script for a movie that could star your cavy.

. . . you can't get any work done, because you're spending too much time talking and playing with your cavies.

. . . you're stuck to your chair for three hours because your cavy is resting on you and you don't dare disturb it!

. . . you can tell the grocery clerk the universal codes for endive, romaine, and parsley before they can look them up!

. . . your cavy gets all excited when momma tells him "MOMMA LOVE SWEETIE, MOMMA LOOOVE SWEEETIE!!"

. . . you wish the dandelion fairies would come out because you want to plant and harvest your own dandelions.

. . . you insist on telling the supermarket checkout clerk WHY you have an entire basket full of parsley, carrots, cilantro, and cucumbers.

. . . you absolutely MUST say goodbye to your guinea pigs and tell them "mommy will be back" even if you are only gone for a short while.

. . . you buy liquid vitamins for you're piggy but first you have to take a drink of the vitamin/water mixture to make sure it doesn't taste yucky.

. . . you have a 2-story house, and your "emergency plan" for possible fires, natural disasters, etc., is all about how to get the piggies out safely.

. . . you are trying to describe the way a teenage boy was behaving in front of a teenage girl and the only word you can think of to do so is rumblestrut.

. . . you insist on telling the office supply store checkout clerk WHY you are buying 3 more packages of Neat Ideas Cubes, and start explaining, without any encouragement, how to build guinea pig cages.

[Jo]

1. Eu traiesc intre 4 si 7 ani. Fiecare despartire de tine este pentru mine o suferinta. Gandeste-te la asta inainte sa ma iei.

2. Da-mi timp sa inteleg ce vrei de la mine.

3. Da-mi incredere, traiesc din ea.

4. Nu te supara prea mult pe mine si nu ma inchide ca pedeapsa. Tu ai
munca ta, prietenii si distractiile. Eu te am numai pe tine.

5. Vorbeste cu mine din cand in cand.

6. Invata sa ma tratezi asa cum trebuie. Nu am sa uit niciodata.

7. Inainte sa ma bati gandeste-te ca dintii mei ar putea foarte usor
sa muste adanc mainile tale si totusi nu ii folosesc.

8. Inainte sa ma faci "inutil", "prost" sau "incapatanat" cand imi
ceri sa fac ceva, gandeste-te ca poate mancarea mi-a facut rau, ca
am stat prea mult timp la soare sau ca inima mea e obosita.

9. Ocupa-te de mine cand o sa fiu batran ... si tu o sa fi
odata.

10. Vreau sa fii langa mine cand o sa vina acea perioada dificila. Nu
spune niciodata "nu pot sa suport" sau "sa se intample cand eu nu o
sa fiu prezent". Totul va fi mai usor pentru mine daca tu o sa fii
prezent.

[Jo]

Sunt una dintre mamicile care a pierdut pana acum, in favoarea curcubeului, 4 sufletele purceline. Fiecare dintre ele mi-a schimbat viata intr-un mod pozitiv, dar odata plecat, mi-a rupt sufletul in milioane de bucati. Cei care au trecut prin asta cel putin o data, stiu cum e, deci n-am sa insist pe acest subiect. De fiecare data in urma celui plecat a ramas un fratior, si de fiecare data am gasit puterea sa infiez un altul, ca sa nu il las singur pe cel ramas. Nu stiu ce mi-a dat curaj de fiecare data, dar ultima pierdere m-a marcat atat de mult (probabil s-au adunat toate pierdeile la un loc si m-au strivit) si am decis ca sufletelul ramas sa fie ultimul nostru purcelin.
Intr-una din zile, uitandu-ma la Motocel cum se infoia la companionul lui actual, un mielut de plush, m-a lovit, ca o palma peste cap, motivul pentru care TREBUIE sa merg mai departe: omul are o medie de viata de 60 de ani si in acest timp isi poate satisface toate placerile si dorintele. Un purcel are media de viata de 4 ani (bebeii mei nu au prins anii astia) si nu are liber arbitru. Are, insa, nevoi, pe care numai omul i le poate satisface, ca sa fie fericit in felul sau, in scurta viata pe care o are : o casa primitoare, dragoste multa, o mancare buna, o ingrijire adecvata si un partener cu care sa povesteasca. Cum pot sa compar suferinta mea cu media de viata a lui Motocel? Daca tot sunt putini anii ce ii sunt dati aici, pe pamant, de ce sa nu-i ofer posibilitatea de a-i trai asa cum se cuvine?

[maria]

[Borki]

[Jo]

[Anna]

[ZuzuBelleMel]

[irinook]

[alinushu']

[maria]

[irinook]

sper sa-i fie bine acolo unde e. n-am dormit toata noaptea, sufar mult. chiar ii simt lipsa. se simtea cand era in casa.