which_chick | A time to be born, A time to die.

In May of 2007, I acquired a cat. I know this because of the power of blog. Despite my initial plans to aim for a better name, she wound up being named Ungrateful Bastard, which morphed into YouBee, a name which eventually had all the features worn off like a favorite stuffed toy until what was left at the end was Bins.

Bins turned into a quite pretty cat, but then I shop (scout the available half-feral barn kittens) for that. My view is that if I'm taking a cat home, I'm keeping it until it dies and if I have to look at it for that long, it had better be pretty. On that front, she did not disappoint.

Fifteen years is a decent run for an indoor-outdoor cat. She'd been failing slowly (eating less, dropping weight, but still bright and chipper, everything but the personality fading away) for the last year but I'm glad she waited to go until the ground was thawed and kitten season was right around the corner. About the time I'm ready to look at kittens, there will be kittens to look at.

She was quite considerate at the end, Bins was, and I am grateful to have known her.