Scat, 1995-2014

Yesterday, my mom texted me some sad news: our family cat, Scat, has passed. That's the kind of news it was, the kind that can be texted. As she was nearly 19, this news was not unexpected, and more of a reason to reminisce than grieve. She's been with us nearly my whole life and I hardly remember life pre-Scat.

She was the second most crotchety cat in our family (she was dethroned 5 years ago by her nephew, Atticus, the Joffrey of our family) and often had a look of disdain that made Grumpy Cat look like a ray of sunshine. Everyone knew you didn't move her, for she was wherever she was because she wanted to be there and nowhere else. Despite her crabby temperament, in her younger years, she was also one of the snuggliest cats I've ever had the pleasure of cuddling.

There's so much I could say, all of which would sound strangely negative to an outsider, but I say it all with love and fondness. My father, the real writer in the family, wrote her a lovely obituary on his blog.

Goodnight, Skitty on Come Walk With Me

There's one other noteworthy obit: the one my mom texted to all us kids.

That sums her up perfectly. Scat, you will be missed.