The first of many days

My bestest friend in the whole world died on July 4. My cat Marla died just one month shy of 18, most likely from kidney failure.

I'm not sure how long I'll keep this, or keep this going. But for now, it's a place to remember Marla and her life. If things seem a bit random, that's the flow of thinking.

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Marla - full name Marlaina Elisabeth - was named after two friends who gave her to me shortly after I moved to New Jersey. My two friends were Jewish, so I often said that Marla was, too - the first of many "Marlaisms" to come.

I figured out since then that Marla must have been born in August, as she was a "Chanukah" present to me. Marla had at least one brother. I distinctly remember being told that my two friends opted instead for the girl cat because she was more active - as I found out when Marla hopped out of my arms, headed up the stairs, and I went to grab her, only to see a looming stair tread coming at my face.

Yup, on our first encounter, I almost got knocked out cold trying to keep up with Marla.

And on the last day, Marla again tried to jump out of my arms. She also jumped off the lounger and took two steps before falling over. I distinctly heard a Marla voice, in her typical third-person, "Marla meant to do that. Marla not feeling so good, but Marla just needs her rest now, Dad."

Crazy cat. And right now Marla is in heaven, driving everybody else crazy, especially my brother Danny, asking for food (especially people food), chasing her stuffed toy mouse, just like she used to.