May 20, 1989 - June 4, 2009
Tonight we celebrate the life of Tigger, who -- having reached the impressive feline age of 20 -- passed away peacefully at home, in her favorite basket, with her adoptive mom (me) and her biggest fan (Truman) by her side.
She lived a full and adventurous life, and was dearly loved by many.
Tigger's many achievements included avid bird hunting, balcony napping, Labrador taunting, ceaseless purring, sofa jumping, ice cream begging, carpet piddling, high-decibel mrrrrRAYRRRing (as any of you who have spoken with me on the phone will attest), and the occasional surprise special guest appearance in my morning shower.
She and Truman shared more in common than either would probably like to admit. Both were accomplished "vocalists," both were the proud recipients of battle-scar notches in their ears, and both had tails that were bent at the tip (Tigger's was due to her having survived being hit by a car when she was a kitten). Though Truman never could get her to play with him on his own terms -- not even when he dropped a toy or a bone in front of her face and waited with ears-up, tail-wagging expectation -- Tigger did secretly enjoy playing her own special games, the most popular being "I will cross the room and go out of my way to walk three inches in front of your face as I know you are under 'down-stay' orders, ha HA."
Tigger is survived by her humans in Arizona and California, her dog, and anyone else she may have considered staff at one time or another.
No doubt she is now making her first deposit at the Big Litter Box in the Sky. Or, more likely, just *outside* the Big Litter Box, on God's freshly steam-cleaned living room carpet.
We'll miss you, Tig.
