R.I.P. Catherine Catt
Our 16 year old cat, CATherine, a.k.a. Kitty, died yesterday. Kudos and thanks to everyone at the South Bay Veterinary Hospital who have been wonderful to her and all our beasts.
Catherine was not a good cat. Red in tooth and claw, she decimated the local bird population, beat up other neighborhood cats and thought nothing of taking on our 75 pound lab. She regularly bit the hand that fed her--namely mine. She was spiteful and vindictive: when she got cat food that didn't suit her, she made a point of pooping all over the kitchen floor. She bit, scratched, growled, hissed, spit, sharpened her claws on furniture, sprayed and just plain didn't like us.
I know dogs go to heaven. I'm not so sure about cats but I hope they don't go to hell because Catherine was a thoroughly bad cat. And we miss her!
2 comments:
Our condolences. I know what it is to lose a deeply anti-social cat. I hope the memory of her passing will stay with you, because it seems to me that we become a little less empathic to our world if we are roughened by a sort of survivalist cynicism. I'm sure you could put the idea more cogently. It seems to me that existentialism is prompted as much by grif as by skepticism.
Thanks! I suppose living with Catherine build character. Now we've just got one cat a Siamese mix who is basically a dog, and Ducati, chocolate lab kennel-named Brytanic Cadbury of Bournville who means well but has chewed large chunks off of the exterior of our house and eaten two of the cushions on our livingroom couch.
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