Asha

We said goodbye to another kitty today.

Asha, the prettiest, softest, most well-meaning cat in the history of the world. Ainsley had raised her for fifteen years. And had given her that great name -- it means "Life". After not eating for a week, being diagnosed with kidney failure, and not rebounding after being fed baby food and protein from a tube, we decided it was time. As hard as it is, the good thing is that she is no longer suffering. Now it's our turn.

The bedroom she's occupied for four years is a quiet, lonely expanse when we don't get to say "Hi, Asha Bear" whenever we open the door. We were able to co-exist on a queen-sized bed, usually with her on or about my head. She had a funny way of licking the air when you scritched her lower back just right, and the most delightful, friendly, cockle-warming mew when she knew she was about to get fed.

She was a wonderful cat.

When I am reincarnated as King of the Universe, I'm going to ensure that animals never get sick, never feel pain, never have to die with our help. They're just going to evaporate into pixie dust and settle into children's facepaint and give kids one last smile.