My cat Laetitia (aka Letty) died today. She was 16-years-old so it’s not a huge shocker. When she started to show signs of ailment this past weekend and then drop significant amounts of weight, we started to resign ourselves to the inevitable. Yet still, it’s hard to deal with.
She was one of the first cats Matt and I got together (Luna being the other). She was about as dumb as a box of rocks and yet loved everyone who walked in the door. She was a super lover in fact. Ask any Comcast guy. She might burn herself on fire regularly, fall off of tables or countertops for no apparent reason and think bouillon was real meat but she never stopped loving. She was fanatical about Farmer’s Market milk, lettuce, spinach balls and yogurt. She was ninja stealthy getting on your lap and obsessed over the other “kitty” in the mirror she needed to take down. She was a friend to all and all around pain in the ass.
I’m sorry to hijack this blog for such an unrelated subject but I feel she deserves some sort of something. R.I.P. Letty. You were the world’s best Kitty.