It is with great regret and sorrow that I announce the permanent retirement of a senior member of the Feline Advisory Committee.
Molly, aka Smudgepaw Stubbytail, aka Murmur, aka Olly-Molly, aka Pain in the Ass, aka Little Red Cat, aka the Scarlet Harlot, aka the Red Queen, aka Graceling, aka Disgraceling, passed on after a lengthy and annoying chronic illness, which she bore with her usual mixture of disgruntlement and resignation. She went peacefully, surrounded by the humans she loved and the other cats she tolerated.
Molly was an extraordinarily intelligent cat, possessed of a perverse evil streak, a distinct tendency towards self-isolation, the ability to open and close boxes, and of course the talent of hiding in plain sight. She always had a way of making you feel special even as she threatened your life (just ask about her special throat hugs!) and a quiet, determined purr. We never trained her–instead, she trained us to bend to her indomitable will. In her younger years, she spent many fine hours in the front rooms of the house, where no other cats could bother her, where, we assume, she was reading my comic books or something.
In later years, she served admirably as female alpha and youngest member of the Old Ladies contingent of the Feline Advisory Committee. Her responsibilities included disapproving of everything I did, throwing books at me when I wasn’t working, getting us out of bed at breakfast time, smacking the boys when they got out of line, and generally being a cat.
She was brilliant, bold, beautiful, stubborn, loving, mercurial, and an excellent companion right up to the very end. She will be missed greatly.