Last week was an incredibly rough one. Our sweet little kitty died. She was with us for exactly one year, one month and one day.
And it wasn't anywhere close to being long enough.
Her cup tipping aside, she was just the best kitty ever.
-When she was younger she would stand up on her hind legs just like a little Rory Calhoun (or for those of you who don't get the Simpsons reference, like a meerkat).
-She was the most un-scratchyist and un-bitiest cat I've ever known, at least when it came to people.
-She preferred drinking out of our wishing well to the watering bowl with pump we'd bought her for Christmas.
-Whenever Joey cried, Isadora would come to see what was wrong.
-A friend once said about her, "If all cats were like this, I'd actually like cats."
-When she wanted to get down from the window above our bed, she'd meow politely at Jeff and he'd roll over to give her room to land.
-Sometimes in the middle of the night, I would wake to the sound of her playing with Joey's trashcan.
-She was a goof, so she fit in well around here. Here are a few more videos of her silliness.
Stuck in the ceiling
Under the carpet protector
Playing with a balloon
-She loved to sit on my lap whenever I was on the computer. She'd then lay her paws and chin across my arm, despite (or probably because of) that particular pet peeve of mine. And I totally let her. I actually looked forward to it. And I am missing it desperately today and every day I've sat down at the computer since she's been gone.
Goodbye, Sweetheart. We miss you so very much.