Mr. Johnson (aka Bubs)

Thanks to Kayna, junkllama, and JasonDemon for giving Mr. J an audience, and sending him off with the bang he deserved.

I feel i can speak for Sintantrix also when i say that we beleive as little grieving should be done after a death as possible. It's selfish. Instead of mourning your loss, cherish and celebrate their life as a complete whole and your opportunities to have loved them.

That's why we gave Mr. Johnson a New Orleans Viking Funeral.

After driving through the non accessible Port of N.O. that we probably werent supposed to be and not finding a good access point, we parked angain and carried his coffin/boat from in front of our place on Bourbon St., down to the A&P on Royal & St. Peter to get some beer, up to Deril's bar on St. Peter where my loving roommate got a chance to say goodbye and give Mr. J some flowers. Then down to the river where i collected some twigs, sticks, and dry palm leaves.

In an open top wooden wine bottles' case, creatively glued by Kayna, we had a bed of newspapers, covered by his old hammock that he used to sleep in when he was living with the lovely Mercie. Mr. Johnson, Bubsy, was then laid on top of his hammock in his little blanket he was wrapped in from the vet. We had his little (big) head out because he's too precious to let go without seeing him. We had a picture of Mr. J and the lovely Bianca in there, as well as a picture of him visiting his old mommy, Mercie. He had some food and a ferret treat to go with him, a little love note from Kayna and junkllama, and the flowers from my roommate.

We took him down to the Mississippi River. I climbed down the rocks along the riverwalk to the water, where i lit the newspaper ablaze with Sintantrix's lighter and shoved him off. Due to the current and the bend in the river, he didn't get too far, but that was alright. We got to watch as the floating blaze swept across the little boat, slowly drifting down river. I gave him a few extra pushes with a long branch until the fire had consumed all that was inside. As he aproached the shore again, slowly sinking and taking on water, i threw a few rocks into the boat to ensure the sinking, thereby allowing nature to reclaim that which it produced.

I played my jewsharp (mouthharp) and much revelrie was had in honor of the life of Mr. Johnson.

I think we're done crying because he went out the way he should have. Don't mourn the passing; celebrate the life.

Much love
Noise