You must tell him he is a good cat

“He will need to be fed once a day. He prefers feline supplement number 25.”

“I understand.”

“And he will require water. And you must provide him with a sandbox. And you must talk to him. Tell him he is a pretty cat. And a good cat.”

“I will feed him.”

“Perhaps that will be enough.”

- Data and Worf, as Data asks Worf to take care of Spot (Star Trek, the Next Generation)

Saturday, we took Ming to the vet for his final visit. Here we are, sitting in the sun. Ever since that episode ran, I made a point of telling my cats that they were pretty cats. And good cats. I told that to Ming as I petted him.

This is the cairn we built over his grave. There is a blue jay feather, piercing a hibiscus leaf, and some flowers. I put a spool of thread in with him, because he had to have three separate surgeries over the years to remove the wads of thread he’d managed to eat. Where he is now, he can eat all the thread he wants. Ming also has a little bat about toy with feathers. The Egyptians got it right about cats.

And because I swore I would do this this year, and because even in sadness there is always brightness, here is the afghan I’ve been working on. Not bad for only two weeks of knitting.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even get my Project Runway recap up before the second episode.