It’s been about a year and a half since her initial hospitalization and diagnosis with feline chronic renal failure (kidney failure). She responded wonderfully to treatment and we’re thankful for the second chance we got with her. She’d been doing great until earlier this summer when she declined a bit, and then in the last couple of weeks, things just got worse. Nothing painful or horrible, she just got weaker and we had to nag her to eat anything because she just didn’t feel good. Then late this week she started having trouble breathing, and with her other issues, none of the potential answers were good and the tests to find out weren’t going to be a lot of fun for her either. It’s the closest thing we could have hoped for to being able to see the future and know that it was time.

On the plus side, she was still affectionate and tolerant even after the last few weeks when we were always putting unwanted food and water under her nose or tossing pills down her throat or sticking her with needles. She seemed to really enjoy our drumming session on Monday, coming out to visit with everyone and be in the middle of things. On Thursday our friend did Reiki on her which meant she had her hands on Alice for 45 minutes then Alice went off for a minute or two and came back for another 15 minutes. For anyone who knows Alice, you know that her allowing that much contact is just unheard of. After that, she was the most relaxed she’d been in weeks. She spent Thursday night sleeping on our bed with us which was unusual for her. Friday morning she spent sprawled in the sunshine.

She had a good life and ended it well. She’s leaving a big hole in all our lives.

Here are some pictures. I’ll keep her in the cat blogging rotation (in our digital library alone I found 925 pictures with Alice in them)

First day home

This was the day we brought her home. She fell asleep in the car and didn’t wake up until her brother had already been exploring their new home for a while.

All grown up

Taken just a few weeks ago. There was a long time where they didn’t get this cuddly, but Alice mellowed out a little over the past few months.

Favorite things

Egg cartons and sunshine.

More faves

Boxes, of course. That red sock contains the remains of a “wooly bully”, a vaguely mouse-shaped ball of felted wool that she tore to tiny bits. It remained her very favorite toy even after the sock treatment. We would hear her making a muffled meowing sound in another part of the house and when we’d check, the sock would be in a new location. We seldom caught her carrying it around, and as soon as she’d see us she’d drop it and act nonchalant. Never managed to get a picture of her with it.

Bolte Taylor is a brain researcher who volunteers as an advocate for NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness. One day before work she had a stroke. The book is a step-by-step account of that experience from her point of view both as the victim of the stroke and as a brain scientist explaining what was happening at each step. She also talks about the process of her recovery following surgery.

The insight beyond the mechanics of the stroke experience is from the effect the damage had on her. The particular effect she got was like the enlightenment from advanced meditation, a kind of peace and freedom from worry and concern with an overarching joy in life and the world. The message she’s sharing following her recovery is that that state is there in our brains available for us to tap into. It’s a little woo-woo, but it’s clear that she had a life-changing experience and it’s fascinating to read about it from such a unique perspective. Definitely worth reading for anyone who has had or knows someone who has had a stroke.

Here’s a sample, her review of Isabel Allende’s Zorro: A Novel:

I’m a Zorro fan, but not to the extent of obsessiveness. I remember watching Tyrone Power late at night on my grandma’s black and white TV, and I’ve seen George Hamilton, Antonio Banderas, and probably some other actors in that role, but I haven’t sought out everything-Zorro. When I saw Allende had written a novel about Zorro, I was thrilled. I even waited for a good time to read it. It tells the story of how Zorro became Zorro–a sweeping tale that is both chilling and fun, just as it should be.

Lots more behind the link up there. There’s even an rss feed for updates.

She won’t drink water out of her dish, but has to drink out of our water glasses. Or the water that has flowed through the roots of the wheat grass. Good thing she’s cute.

Insert rant about insanity of optimizing food to survive an epic journey from tree to mouth rather than for something crazy like… I don’t know, taste maybe?

But the idea that gas taxes pay for roads is one that comes up frequently in discussions of transportation equity especially between car folks and bike folks. The argument is that people who primarily ride bikes aren’t entitled to use the road network because they don’t pay gas or vehicle taxes.

The fact is that while those revenue sources do contribute to road funding, they are far from the only source. Roads are funded from a complex array of sources. And the real kicker is that it’s different for every state.

Here in the northwest, if you look at funding sources for just local roads and streets you might be forgiven for believing that vehicle-related taxes pay for your roads. In Idaho, Montana, and Washington, 95-100% of local streets are paid for with vehicle and fuel taxes. In California, only 59% with the remainder coming from the general fund. In Oregon, only 47% of the funding comes from fuel and vehicle taxes with the remainder coming from federal sources.

However when you look at highway funding, you find that here in the Northwest less than 50% of funding comes from gas and vehicle taxes. The rest is made up from a melange of other sources: state general funds, bonds, local government funds, and especially federal funds.

What those sources of revenue have in common is that they predominantly come from the pockets of drivers, cyclists, walkers, and bus riders alike.

I told them to go ahead, but they were unable to access it. It was responding to pings, but wouldn’t answer to telnet. There are a handful of other machines of similar vintage in the same rack so I logged in to one of them to see how long it had been since it was last rebooted. 764 days. That’s over two years running continuously without a reboot for systems that are 15 years old. (These systems are all on UPS power backed by a big old diesel generator)

Since there was no display handy to show what was going wrong I tried power cycling it. It didn’t come back. The system hadn’t been in active use for a while so extreme measures weren’t called for. Time of death was 2:51pm 6/26/08.

I just didn’t think its passing should go unremarked. How old is 15 in computer years?

The kids got lolled again. Actually I think this is Theo’s first time on icanhascheezeburger.