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Monday, November 11, 2019


My 19 year old cat Stinky Don passed away and that just is what it is. I got her in August, 2001, and she fit in the palm of my hand. She shat on my buddy's shirt when she was a kitten while he was petting her. He said she looked so relaxed.

She once got accidentally dunked into a crock pot full of grease. She was a birder and a rambler when she was young. She was a strong-willed but sweet fur-iend when she got old. Her mother's name was Seven, but that's as far back a geneology chart I can go. I saw the litter when they were first born, so I know she had siblings. But she was brought to me in a "do you want her or not" fashion, when in my opinion she was too little to have been separated from the mother. But her owner was moving, so I took the tiny, furry thing, first named her Face, then she quickly became Stinky Don (Don as in like Don Corleone, I thought she was a boy), and we had a wild 19 years together.

I ripped up a whole room of carpet so she could have a whole room of our house to shit and piss in all to herself (after I took up the carpet, she went back to pissing in the litter box. But it was a rare treat for me when there would be a turd in the litter box, instead of adjacent to it, or on the other side of the room. Or right by the door.).

She inspired many funny songs and many funny, furry stories. As my main mang Big A put it, "she was a muse and amusing."

Old girl had an excellent run.

Summer Breeze by Seals and Croft was playing as she passed there in the vet clinic's little room. She went easy.