Goodbye, Beloved Boy

Rest in peace, my Kitten Boy: 1994-2005.

He lived with me for the first five years of his life. Along with his littermate sister, Kitten Girl, he convinced me that cats are no less possessed of affection (plenty of that) and personality than dogs. I discovered cat-shaped holes in my heart I had no idea had lain empty for so many years.

Although I had to part company with Kitten Boy back in 2000, when "Daddy" got him in the divorce and subsequent separation of households, there had been some comfort in the thought that at least he was still alive, still safe, living out there on the West Coast while I was here in the East.

Yesterday, I lost even that to some ill-advised Internet dabbling, returning for my troubles an R.I.P.-captioned photo of the dear beast on Mr. Almost Right's 'myspace' page.

I'll let that one speak for itself, as I think it does a more or less fine job of indicating the overall timbre of 'myspace', and explains my own everlasting thanks that six years ago, I lived in a relatively uncomplicated "no-fault" state. (Two words for the "Ex", and they ain't 'happy birthday'.)

Still, the last laugh is Kitten Boy's. His innate nobility and general good nature was far too fierce, and too fine, to be impugned by these nods to incivility. Somewhere up there, rumbling with a bassoon purr up in the glorious halls of heaven itself, he is relishing his shifts at the pearly gates, throwing himself down handsomely at the feet of new arrivals, shamelessly showing his vast belly and flashing eyes, grinning his welcome to all.

And I for one cannot wait until I see him again.

L.A.E.