Illyana P. Raskitten was her given name, but she was more likely to answer to her warrior's name: Booger.

Booger was a beautiful white and grey tabby with light brown highlights. She was my first cat, who I met in Rohnert Park, California on August 1st, 1993. She was three months old when I adopted her.

I brought her home with me to Chico, where she spent most of her life. Over the years, she continued to grow more beautiful. And maybe a bit more heavy.

Of all the traits Booger was known for, friendliness was not one of them. She had a habit of rolling on her back, apparently inviting a guest to scratch her belly, and then letting her claws do her talking when she had her fill. She never got along with other cats, and other cats didn't usually care much for her.

Booger was always "my" cat, so I overlooked her grouchy and obstinate disposition (as long as she didn't turn those claws on me!). She was a true lap-cat, and it was my lap she usually wanted to sit in. Usually at the most inconvenient times.

Booger was very playful... to a point. She would play "fetch", which I hear is unusual for a cat. I'd throw a plastic Construx(TM) piece, and she'd bring it back to me to throw again. If I didn't want to play any more, she would hop up and deposit the toy on my lap, which would usually persuade me to start up again. Booger was the only cat I've ever met who could resist the call of the laser pointer. At some point, it seemed, she saw right through that ploy and realized she could never catch the speedy little red dot. So, she decided to have nothing to do with it any more, and just stared at the wacko who was waving the shiny stick around like it was supposed to impress her. That was the kind of cat Booger was.

She was also a dear friend and loyal companion who comforted me during some of the most trying times of my life. She may have been just a cat, but there was a bizarre feeling that each of us understood where the other was coming from. It is for this, as much as anything else, that I miss her so much.

The day Illyana passed away was one of the most difficult of my life. She was dying from kidney failure, and her condition had worsened to the point where she could no longer be comfortable. She was howling and purring that disturbed purr cats have when they're confused and afraid. I made a very difficult decision and took her to the vet to have her put to sleep.

Illyana passed away at 10:35 a.m., October 31st (Halloween), 1997. I tried to comfort her as she slipped away into her final sleep. It was painful to watch her go, and I can never shake the last image I saw of her lifeless body, but I couldn't let her die alone, staring at some blank wall wondering what was happening to her. I hope by being there for her I gave her a less traumatic end. She deserved as much.

As I write this (November 2nd, 1997), I am still feeling grief over the experience. I was not at all prepared to lose Illyana, who was only four years old, and was supposed to have another good decade in her before I had to worry about her getting sick like this. I may get another cat some day, but it won't be for a while. It would be a better deal to get Illyana back, but somehow I don't see that happening.

Thank you for reading through this memorial and listening to this crazed cat-lover's words. It is my hope that putting this page out will help me to get over this loss more quickly.

- Joshua Adam Hart
11/02/1997

Illyana P. Raskitten 05/11/1993 - 10/31/1997