As most of you know, our own beloved Mimi crossed the Rainbow Bridge earlier this week, after a long and happy life.
At least the last eleven years of it were happy, after Ekaterin rescued her from a bad situation as a breeder cat and patiently healed her, body and soul.
I’m hoping Ekaterin will stop by and post some of her favorite pictures of Mimi. In the meantime, for my part, I’m going to reminisce about her adventures as part of the gang — which she STILL IS, by the way. Cats are interdimensional, and they don’t discriminate based on which side of the bridge you happen to be on. Witness Mimi’s brother Cookie, who crossed the bridge long ago but still comes by occasionally to swashbuckle. He’s on the left.
Mimi was such an elegant cat, you couldn’t imagine her stirring from the settee and actually getting her paws dirty. But IN FACT, that cat was in her element in the great outdoors.
Sort of.
At any rate, she knew how to pitch a tent.
She was a vision on the slopes.
But she wasn’t merely a glamourpuss. She was there, in Portland, as part of the Wall of Floof.
She was an active member of the gang. She attended all the events.
Celebrated all the holidays… like that Thanksgiving at Joe’s Finest Fish.
And the day afterward in the Food Coma Ward.
She participated in the joy rides…
And the jailbreaks…
The conga lines…
And the Zoom calls.
But if there was one key takeaway about Mimi — one characteristic to remember above all the rest — and I hope I’m not getting sentimental here, but…
NOBODY could beat that woman at a hotdog-eating contest!
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️❤️
.