Leslie, 1990-June 9, 2008

You were my most darling baby girl for all 18 years of your wonderful life. From the moment you climbed out from under that couch in the trailer and into my lap, I knew you were my kitten. And you were the fiestiest kitten, performing amazing aerial acrobatics in endless pursuit of your stuffed fish, climbing to the highest places you could find, getting yourself plastered into the wall and stuck in a hosiery leg, and generally raising hell. Those first two years of your life were tough for both of us. When I finally kicked Kathy out I gave her two days to take whatever she wanted before I came back and changed the locks. When I returned, most of my stuff was gone but you were waiting for me, paws literally outstretched to jump into my arms, and I knew we were going to be alright, you and me.

After that, you exercised final authority over who I dated. We were both pleased when I settled down with Theresa. And Theresa loved you just as much as you loved her.

We made 9 moves together. I know that you didn't like being uprooted, but you were my heart and my home wherever we went--from Tucson to San Francisco, to Salem then back to San Francisco. I think you might have liked our last stop together the best, watching the birds from the bedroom window and spending sunny weekend mornings out on the balcony.



Whenever I was upset you climbed into my lap and purred and nuzzled until I calmed down.



You were smart and fierce and feisty, adoring and adorable in equal measures.

With Aunt Patty


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