2002-02-19

Whitey B. RIP.

Right now, I don't have too much to say. We "put her down" yesterday, and it was the right thing to do. She was ready to go, and went with the implicit understanding that it really was her time to go: she just flopped over and let the vet inject her.

Whitey B. was the best cat. She loved listening to us play guitar, or banjo, or whatever we happened to pick up at the time. She loved X, Miles Dethmuffen, Sleater Kinney, Krebstar, Boy Wonder, and Gang of Four.

Right now, though, it's hard. She wasn't there to wake us up this morning, which was totally weird. Even at her most sick, she managed to crawl up onto the bed and do what she felt to be her duty.

I tried to joke about it, saying how great it'll be to not have to dodge the kitty litter granules she used to leave along the hallway between the bathroom and the kitchen. But I would walk 1,000 miles with 20 granules of litter in my shoes to bring her back the way she was.

Whitey B. -- the rockinest kitty there ever was. We love you, ischk.

lisamcc at 12:10 p.m.

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