Personal Stuff – CoreyQ.com

Today, after a life spanning 20 years, we said goodbye to Punkin.

Punkin was born in the spring of 2003, in St. Andrews, Manitoba. She, her mother, and her siblings were taken to the Winnipeg Humane Society, which is where I met her, shortly after Christmas, 2003.

When I saw her, she was the only member of her family left at the Humane Society; Everyone else had been adopted. When I picked up this little orange fluffball and started brushing her, she fell asleep in my arms. That’s when I knew she was meant to be with me.

A photo of young Punkin – bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

The Humane Society had named her ‘Rebecca,’ but I changed her name to Punkin, named after Punkinhead, the mascot of Eaton’s Toy Land.

With a plaque of her namesake, which was gifted to my by a total stranger

She came to live at my condo on Stradbrook, joined shortly after by Kurtis and Sam. While Punkin was not a fan of Sam at first (despite Sam’s obvious love for her), they eventually learned how to live with each other – and, I think, loved each other in their own way.

Sam so wanted to snuggle, and would gradually move closer and closer – until Punkin noticed.

After a few years, we moved to our condo on Portage. Moving day was stressful on both Punkin and Sam (and Kurtis, who had to corral them), but they quickly adapted to their new home.

Staircases offered a whole world of new vantage points.

We lost Sam a few years ago, and Punkin definitely felt the loss. Her personality also changed – the patio, previously a place where she ventured out with trepidation, became a favourite hangout. She also became more vocal than ever, no doubt missing her partner in crime.

Late in life, the patio was her favourite place.

If you met Punkin, you know she had a unique character – even her colour was somewhat unique, as orange cats are, more often than not, males. She had stubby little legs, but always criss-crossed them when she walked, like a little model. She loved people; Even with dozens of people at our house for a party, she would be in the middle of everything… Usually on someone’s lap. She never met a lap she didn’t like and, often, would hang her legs over each side of yours, like a lion sitting on a branch. She also had a little ‘lion’s mane’ – tufts of hair around her shoulders just a little longer than the rest. And a big, gravelly meow for such a little cat.

Always the life of the party – even in her sunset days

She was photographed by a few professional photographers in her time (including Colin Corneau and Mike Peters) and has been painted/drawn by Jess Dixon and Paul Grindey. Julie Kentner also had a gift to capture Punkin at her very best in photos. Thanks to you all for these images. I will treasure them always.

“A Portrait with Your Pet” Fundraiser Photo by Colin Corneau

By Mike Peters, who shot Punkin (and our house) for CAA Magazine

Thanks to Paul Grindey for this beautiful portrait, which I will treasure always.

Punkin had so many great people in her life, but I’d like to especially thank those who took care of her for us when we went away: Karen, Nico, Eric, Julie, Sharmyn, Jamie, Neil, Mary Ann, Adam, and Andrea… And I’m sure there are others I’ve missed. You fed her, snuggled with her, played with her, brought her toys, and even sang to her. Thank you for your kindness.

Julie always helped Punkin to find her light

Thanks also to Dr. Hawkes and the staff at Pembina Veterinary Hospital. As Punkin aged and her health issues mounted, she became a regular at the clinic, and the staff has always been kind, compassionate and friendly – even when the little old lady was feisty.

We were lucky to have her with us as long as we did. But it was still hard to say goodbye.

While I’ve had many pets in my life, Punkin was in my life the longest, and had the biggest impact. She was one of a kind and, although she was a little cat, she leaves a huge hole in my heart, and countless memories I will never forget.

As you’ve probably noticed, my blog posts thus far have been all about pop culture, and are meant to (hopefully) make you laugh. But there’s been something more serious that I’ve wanted to write about for a while.

When someone you love passes away, it’s hard. There are often lots of decisions that need to be made and tasks that need to be done – and it’s all happening when you’re in the throes of grief.

Funeral arrangements to make, credit cards to cancel, wills to execute… And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. But what about your loved one’s digital footprint?

You can deactivate a loved one’s Twitter account and memorialize their Instagram. But let’s look at Facebook, as its design has more features that make memorialization even more important. Today, a friend posted that her dad’s profile had disappeared – and that’s what prompted me to finally get on the laptop and type this post.

Also, the five-year anniversary of my mom’s passing is coming up next month, so she (and that time in my life) have been on my mind more than usual lately.

How do I do it?

Facebook has a section in its help center that can walk you through the steps – but there’s something you can do right now to make it easier should you find yourself in the position to memorialize an account. Ensure that you’re a verified family member of… well.. your family members. Then, when the time comes, you simply need to contact Facebook with a copy of the death certificate (or other documentation) and the account will be memorialized.

What happens when I memorialize an account?

There are many reasons to memorialize a Facebook account. Here’s what Facebook says will happen:

The word Remembering will be shown next to the person’s name on their profile
Depending on the privacy settings of the account, friends can share memories on the memorialized Timeline
Content the person shared (ex: photos, posts) stays on Facebook and is visible to the audience it was shared with
Memorialized profiles don’t appear in public spaces such as in suggestions for People You May Know, ads or birthday reminders
No one can log into a memorialized account
Memorialized accounts that don’t have a legacy contact can’t be changed
Pages with a sole admin whose account was memorialized will be removed from Facebook if we receive a valid request

Why should I do it?

Along with the above-mentioned features of memorialization, there are other good reasons to ensure your loved one’s profile is switched over:

It keeps it from hackers – If hackers gain access to your loved one’s account, all sorts of things could happen. Could you imagine seeing your name tagged in a Ray-Ban ad “posted” by your loved one… or worse? And what happens to hacked accounts? If reported, they get deleted.
You can still post on their wall – As long as the person allowed wall posts before, you can still post on their wall after they’ve passed… To share a memory or thought. You can still read message histories, too.
It protects their pages – Lately, I’ve been getting ads for dormant business pages (one was a seniors’ residence) – but these businesses were selling erectile dysfunction medication. When you memorialize your loved one, it removes them as admins from their pages as well so this won’t happen.
It Lets Other People Know Your Loved One Has Passed – As Facebook friends range from close family to casual acquaintances, it’s possible that some people may not be aware your loved one has passed away. Memorializing a page lets people know, so they’re not wondering why messages haven’t been answered or wall posts aren’t acknowledged.

What can I do?

Spread the Word – Share this post, talk about memorialization with loved ones. I tend to think the main reason pages don’t get memorialized is because people don’t realize it can be done.
Leave a Directive – When writing your will, include a section about your digital footprint – what you want to be done, and who you want to do it. An interesting (if somewhat unrelated) fact: loyalty club points (like PC Optimum, HBC rewards, and so on) can only be transferred to immediate family members if it’s laid out in the will.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled snark and stuff.

Category: Personal Stuff

In Memory of Punkin