RIP Kitty.

Today we said goodbye to kitty. She had a name, it was Princess. We just called her kitty. I'm not sure how old kitty was, maybe around 10? Dunno. Can't remember. I do remember she came as a kitten, a little kitten pulled out of the dump. Lots of dump feral kitties, the lady with a possum in her freezer, she catches 'em young and finds them homes. We took kitty, and Laia named her Princess. I think the intention, Princess become another house cat, live in the house, sit on a pillow, eat cat food from a can.

Instead, kitty lived kind of a spartan life. She had a job, eating gophers. Kept her on as a professional assassin. Although in the last year, the death machine seemed a little bit slower, took more naps. Had a dog crate to sleep in under the patio, never really took to being a housecat. We just let her be a her own kind of wild, got used to her comings and goings. Total ass kicker of a cat, and also always kept the yard free from Pistachio and Peppers and those cats from over the back fence. Sometimes, during the freezes, tried to get kitty to come inside, be a housecat for a few days every winter, except never would take. Would feed her on the table, keep her dog-safe, but inside wasn't her thing. Kitty was wild, and just liked to live in the yard.

Kitty was part of the landscape. You look around, you can always find kitty somewhere. Usually. Sometimes kitty took leaves of absence, but always came home. Dogs, might chase her, but usually she didn't run. Stood her ground, only Gustavo really disturbed by Kitty just standing there. Ruby never took to having her in the house. Kitty, your life always overshadowed by dogs, and I apologize for that. But you're different. You're a cat, and I think you liked to be sort of wild, in your blood, bred at the dump from generations of wild ones.

She always left the gophers outside in the yard, for us or the dogs, whoever wanted the parts she didn't need. Gustavo even learned it was super funny to bring in kitty's remnants, hide them under Gary's pillow if he was sleeping in on his day off.

Me and kitty, we liked eachother. I could pick her up, carry her around. Not many other people could say that about her.

I knew the other day, when kitty came back from a few days off, that she was very, very sick. You can tell. Happened real fast. Didn't have much hope for a prognosis, but took her in anyways, for that just in one in a million case it's a thyroid issue and could be patched up with some pills. But kitty had already made it pretty clear, clear as day, that she was ready to come move to the house to finish up her time, too sick to be wild anymore and needed some help. The other animals, always waiting for their sign. Kitty, holds it up in my face and says it's time. Still dropped some fancy dime at the doc's, just to make sure, owed that much to her from a lifetime of service.

When I dropped her off at the doc's, came home and cried because I knew. When the doc called me, took a picture inside her and could see. He said he hoped it was something else, but yeah, I was right, she had a big cancer living inside her and it would be hard to try to make it go away. I thanked him, and I went outside and dug a big hole, next to where my old cat Civ lay, buried after she died on her own in my lap at age 19. The doc shot her up with stuff to make her feel ok overnight, and I brought her home so she could have one more night to be wild and one more night to be free. Kitty wouldn't want to go in an office, inside walls. Wanted to be outside, in some sun, just to lay down and not have cancer stomach anymore.

Kitty, she needed help to move on, my friend the vet came over in the morning. Now lays out there under the daisy bush, out where she liked to be.