Joshua Bennett Vogel, October 27, 1964-December 20, 2017

This is, without a doubt, the hardest news I have had to share.

VOGEL, Joshua Bennett

With great sadness, the family of Josh Vogel announces his passing on December 20, 2017 following a very brief illness. He is survived and remembered with love by his parents, Richard and Patricia Vogel, and his brother Andrew Vogel (Wendy). Josh was 53 years old.

Josh loved music. Josh loved baseball. He loved animals, Budweiser, and pizza, but most of all Josh loved his family and friends. At the age of 18 he left Cincinnati for the west coast, and spent the remainder of his days in the California sun. A Policy Enforcement Specialist at Weebly, Josh will be remembered there for his love of laughter and jokes, once filling a coworker’s desk with dry cat food in response to a prank played on him.

His former wife Allison loved Josh’s Peter Pan sense of humor. His beloved Anna adored his sweet, gentle nature. If you knew Josh Vogel, you knew a kind man. You knew a man who loved a silly joke. You knew a man who, after years of searching, had finally found peace & contentment within his own life.

If you knew Josh Vogel, you knew joy.

A glass will be raised to Josh’s memory at Eli’s Mile High Club, 3629 Martin Luther King Jr Way, Oakland, CA 94609, at 1 PM PST on Saturday, January 6, 2018.

Donations may be made to The Miracle League, helping children with disabilities experience the thrill of baseball.

Rest in peace, Josh. I love you.

That’s right, Josh.

RIP Oliver

Oliver, the last of the original three cats that Wendy brought into our relationship, passed away quietly at home a couple weeks ago. The original trio was Merrick, Ringo, and Oliver.

We thought Oliver would live forever because he had an annoying habit of peeing on things around the house. However, over the last few weeks, he quickly declined.

When he finally stopped eating — especially eating Nacho Cheese Doritos (his absolute favorite food — he would take them out of your mouth if you let him) — we knew his time was dwindling. After agonizing over the decision, we finally knew it was time. He passed peacefully in Wendy’s lap.

He will certainly be missed because he was the last of the originals.

Rest well, Oliver. I know you’re happily munching Nacho Doritos at the Rainbow Bridge!

Bean, RIP – Sunday, February 6, 2011

On Sunday, February 6, 2011, right around 10:33pm, our dear sweet old Bean dog took her last breath in this world.

Bean had battled spleen cancer in August 2010 and beat it (with spleen removal and chemotherapy). However, not long after that, Wendy found a mass on Bean’s liver which turned out to be cancer.

Bean battled valiantly through several months of chemotherapy under the care of the wonderful Dr. Cheryl Harris. Bean rallied for a bit, but soon began losing her once-considerable appetite. The weight began to fall off Bean very quickly. Each night, we’d offer Bean a variety of eating options, from cat food to Arby’s sandwiches to cookies to Fritos – anything she wanted to eat she got. For the last few days, Bean didn’t want to eat anything at all. The cancer had grown so large that it had compressed her stomach to the point that her appetite was non-existent. Our girl was starving to death, so we had to make the difficult decision on Sunday February 6, 2011. Bean passed away in our family room, in her favorite bed, surrounded by dogs, cats, and her people.


Wendy met Bean when she came into the hospital to be adopted several years ago. Something about Bean’s gentle demeanor, sweet soulful dark eyes, and long eyelashes touched Wendy’s heart, so Wendy asked me to come visit Bean. Before I entered the large run where Bean was waiting, I was warned that Bean didn’t like men. Well, not that she didn’t like them, she’d just never been around them so was unused to them. Unworried, I went into the run and sat on the floor across from Bean, with a couple dog treats in my hand and just waited. Within about 10 minutes, Bean’s legendary appetite beat out her sense of caution and she slowly approached me and took the cookies from me. Deciding then that I wasn’t all bad, she plopped her butt down on my crossed legs and looked at me expecting more cookies. I did not disappoint her!

When Bean came home to live with us, there was exactly one male she liked (that would be me). During parties, she was most content to stay upstairs, away from any boys. Wendy once threw a party for one of those home-based business things (maybe it was Avon or Candlelight; I cannot recall) which was attended only by females. Bean was literally the center of attention in that environment – she came downstairs and hung out with the ladies all evening!

The first time Dolly (our first dog) met Bean, we could see Dolly fall head-over-heels in love with Bean. Dolly was very happy to gain a canine friend! The two of them were inseparable for the rest of Bean’s life.

Over the years, Bean’s comfort around males grew until it stopped being an issue. Bean was then able to share her loving spirit with everyone, male or female.

Once Bean started to get sick with the liver cancer, she felt comfortable laying in a dog bed in the family room. The bed was large enough – barely – that Bean and Buster (the wiener dog) could both wedge themselves in. Today, Buster is laying alone in that dog bed, but he’s kindly left room for Beanie.


So far in 2011, we’ve lost 20% of our furry family, by losing Bean and Akhenaten. Merrick, Oliver, Chuck, and Buster are all geriatric animals, so the next couple of years may be full of loss for us.

Even though Bean lived a long and happy life before she got so sick, it was still very difficult to see my sweet girl finish her time with us.

Cecile (Levy) Weil passes away

Cecile Levy WEIL, age 109, passed away March 6, 2010, beloved wife of the late Harold A. Weil, devoted mother of Arthur and Virginia Weil and Ralph and Irmgard Weil, loving grandmother of Ted Weil, Wendy and Andrew Vogel, David and Chie Weil, Richard and Jamie Weil and Nancy Weil, also survived by 7 great grandchildren.

Graveside services Monday, March 8 at 1:00PM at United Jewish Cemetery in Walnut Hills, 3400 Montgomery Road, Cincinnati, OH 45207. No visitation at the family residence.

J.D. Salinger Dies

JD_Salinger "Catcher in the Rye" author J.D. Salinger has died at age 91 in New Hampshire.

I always enjoyed hanging out with Holden Caulfield for a couple days every few years.

Farewell to our dear friend Ringo

On the morning of Thursday, July 16, 2009, our dear little cat Ringo, a soft and gentle soul, finished his fight with a rare form of bone cancer. He was 12 years old. He died peacefully at home, surrounded by his furry family and his people. He finished up under our bed, close to us but private & hidden, which is just how he wanted it.


When Wendy met Ringo, she was newly in practice. Ringo was a cat available for adoption at her hospital, but because he had severe allergies, he was “boogery” most of the time. As a result, no one adopted him. He had lived only in steel cages, waiting for his ‘forever home’. One day, Wendy gave him a blanket for his cage and he sat on it and purred and purred contentedly while “making biscuits” on the blanket, thus beginning his life-long love of lounging on soft things. It was at that moment that Ringo captured Wendy’s heart and became her cat, and in the process found his ‘forever home’. No laundry baskets were safe once Ringo discovered the softness contained therein!

Ringo possessed a very soft black and white coat, which he meticulously groomed to keep looking great and feeling soft & smooth. Ringo was an understated cat. He was quiet and unassuming, without bad habits. He was a good groomer (unlike Merrick, who just doesn’t give a damn), very shy (unlike Oliver who will eat food right out of your mouth, given the chance), able to hit the litter box every time (I’m looking at you, Oliver!), and a little stand-offish (unlike Stompy who sleeps ON Wendy’s face). Even his broken meow was soft and unassuming. His meow sounded like “<click>-Eow” and was quite distinctive.

aat Ringo02

A vibe one received from Ringo was one of gratitude. He loved his furry family. He loved his people. He loved his surroundings. He was a content, happy cat. A stranger would have to take our word on it, though… Ringo loved exactly two people in the world (me and Wendy, but not in that order) and was mysteriously absent whenever a visitor to our house tried to find him.

Ringo was an intrepid mouse-catcher – the best of the brood, and was known to surprise Wendy with a gift of a dead mouse or two from time to time. This is an amazing feat for a cat that had an allergy that made his little lips puffy and sore for much of his life. As a result, Ringo was an “inefficient eater” who struggled with eating food from the bowls while the other cats just plowed through it. Fortunately, in later years, Ringo grew tolerant of whatever was causing the allergy and he lost those “duck lips”, revealing his handsome face.

He was the first cat to welcome furry newcomers, be they canine or feline, into our brood. Ringo bonded with Mr. Face when no other cats could figure him out (because Mr. Face is blind, he doesn’t display feline social signals – he doesn’t know the other cats are there! – which was very off-putting to everyone but Ringo). Ringo saw through Face’s disability and befriended him, creating a lifelong bond.

In February 2009, I mentioned to Wendy that Ringo had lost some weight. Concerned, Wendy ran blood tests which revealed that Ringo had a rare strain of feline leukemia. Wendy met with specialists who put Ringo on chemotherapy and a cocktail of other medications to buy him some time. He responded well to the therapy by rallying and having several good months, receiving (without complaint) twice-daily shots and pills. It also helped that, during this time, Wendy fed Ringo a steady stream of “whatever he wanted”. This gentle ministration by Wendy kept a little bit of weight on Ringo and kept him hydrated, even when he didn’t want to eat. Plus, it was nice time for Wendy & Ringo to spend together.

aam Merrick (l) and Ringo. Ringo usually lounged with his
legs tucked up, as in this picture.

In late June and early July 2009, Ringo began slipping away. His already-reduced appetite, even for the smelliest cat delight, diminished to the point that when he ate even a couple treats or took a couple laps of cream felt like a victory. His weight dropped even further as his strength began to fade. More often, we’d find him cuddled up on the daybed or on a comforter in the basement, two of his favorite locations. We’d have to take treats to him, instead of him coming up to the kitchen to receive them.


Soon, it became clear that Ringo’s time was nearly upon him. On Monday, July 6, 2009, Wendy decided to stop the chemotherapy drugs. We struggled to get any food into Ringo, who had lost all interest in eating. On Tuesday, July 7, Wendy gave Ringo a dose of antibiotics which seemed to perk him up.

He started to hide – removing himself from the brood of animals – which is a signal that he knew his end was coming. Each morning, I would get up and find Ringo, relieved to find him still breathing. His interest in food evaporated, and his weight started to plummet. He got weaker and weaker.

Wednesday, July 15, we came home and located Ringo in the basement on the daybed. We decided to bring him up to the bedroom with us, so he could be near us. He hid under our bed, and, in the early hours of Thursday July 16, 2009, passed away.

Bon voyage, Ringo. You were such a good cat! We loved you very, very much. (Any mice in heaven had better watch their backs!)