After a heroic battle, Bessie left this world, Friday night April 18th, 2008

Bessie was born, close to 20 years ago at 2525 T Street. Her mom was a gracious gray short haired cat named Sol. Her birth was quite an event for my roommates, a few friends and I. We all watched the miracle of birth (some of us for the first time) under the shop sink. On the eighth kitten Sol passed out, leaving just the head of a slimy black and white kitten sticking out. We all watched not certain what we should do. After what seemed like a long time, I decided that I was going in. As gently as I could I pulled the slimy thing out. Rubbed it and cleaned out its eyes and nose, cut the cord and let it wriggle around with the rest of its siblings.

Momma Sol made it through, and soon all of the little kittens were following her around... all but one. A little black and white cow spotted kitten had become attached to me. I never would have thought of myself as a cat person, I always like the dogs. I really had little choice in the matter, Bessie was my cat, or I was her human (hard to say).

In the remaining years I saw Bessy through two litters of her own. One of her sons, Moon Dog decided to stay with me as well. He was unfortunately killed by a car when he was two. She saw me through, the deaths of my brother, father and best friend (in a very short span). As well as marriage, and lots of very good times. Each time I moved locations Bessie would walk all the way back to the old place to say goodbye. Luckily the last two moves she decided she didn't need to do that(they were even farther away). When we brought Lucky home, tiny, little, cocky, fluffball, Bessie hid behind the door of the bedroom and waited for him to come around the corner. Pounce, swipe and yipe, yipe, yipe and Bessie ruled the house from then on. I think Zoe was the closest thing she had to a peer, they would commune on the kitchen floor.

Through the years Bessie has on most nights, either slept on me or right by my head. I was truly her man. I will miss her dearly, even her gutter-mouth quack, quacks when the water bucket got a little low. She tried hard to recover after her vascular event (kitty stroke), she had some ups and downs, but finally her body began to shut down. I talked with Dr. Jean at Mueller Pet Hospital, and told her that I want to make sure she could still purr when she leaves this world and she agreed. I talked it over with Janet, and we decided that sooner was better than later. So that afternoon I picked Bessie up from the hospital (not a dry eye in the place, they'd all grown very fond of her), put her in her favorite window, and sang to her while I cooked. That night with lights and music low, and a fire in the fireplace, Dr. Jean came by and helped Bessie leave this world with dignity and in peace (bless you Jean).

Feel free to leave any memories you might have about Bessie, or anything else you might want to say.