RIP Eunice (1997-2012)

On July 25th, 1997, Jami and I were driving from Morrilton, Arkansas to our place of employ, UCA, in Conway, Arkansas, and about to get onto the Freeway (I-40), when Jami (who was driving) screamed "KITTEN!" and swerved off at the last minute. It transpired that her eagle eyes had spotted a kitten at the side of the road. We found it near a box near a gas station where it had been unceremoniously dumped. We took it home, bathed it, picked off a disgustingly large number of ticks, and named it, or her, as we realized, Eunice, in memory of my Great Aunt. Here is that Kitten:

Eunice never was the sharpest tool in the shed. A year later her status as the baby of the family was usurped:

A year after that, we moved to Michigan and she vanished into the basement for nigh on a decade. Her only companions over that time were Thomas (when he came down to practice music) and various grandparents, on whom she solicitously checked in the wee small hours, to see if they were really sleeping. She grew fat and greasy.
Then, for no apparent reason, she emerged a couple of years ago, a startlingly slimmer version, and we assumed she was on her last legs. She was transformed: no longer the startled loner who ran and hid, hissing, under things at the approach of humans. Instead the incredibly friendly cat who zoned in on anything you might be eating until you howled and hurled things at her. Well, it turned out her last legs lasted longer than we expected. However, in the past week she had shrunk to a mere shadow of her former self, frighteningly skinny, and very wobbly on the pins. So today, she met her end. A gentle soul whose innings was a good deal longer than the person who dumped her in a box could have expected.