Goodbye, Pretty Girl.

My dad and stepmom had to euthanize another one of their cats today. You might recall that they lost Darcie in January. Like him, Alice had been on the decline for some time, but they kept her hanging on with lots of TLC. She was 17.

You can't tell from the picture because she's doing a lovey blinky face, but Alice had the biggest, roundest eyes I have ever seen on a cat. Most of the time she looked scared out of her wits--and she sometimes was. She spent more time hiding than she did doing anything else. I remember a story about how once there was a repairman at the house, and he had to check something under the stairs in the basement. He emerged with a strange look on his face, and told them that there was a raccoon hiding down there. A raccoon with giant, round, glowing eyes. Oh no, they said, that's just Alice. She would often sit in a doorway or hallway watching the goings on from afar--leaving her escape options open.

Despite being timid, she was very friendly and loved to be petted. She'd walk in circles while I stroked her fur, then lie down and stick her backside in the air to have her tail scratched, then get up and walk in circles again. Oh, how she purred--especially when there were treats involved. And, after years of special attention, she had even started sleeping next to my dad at night--ousting anyone else who coveted that spot with what must have been sheer power of seniority.

Goodbye, Pretty Girl.