Good Night Good Kitty

She was the smallest. The runt. Not surprising really, her mother's name was Itty Bitty. She was one of a legacy that came from a farm on the Okanagan river. Saul, Meyer, Veronica, just to name a few of her relatives throughout the land. Even her name had a legacy; she was named for my Grandmother, the street my parents live on, a song from a band MDHK once played in, my favorite movie and a snowboard apparel company my college BF once owned. She was Little Betty Kitty, Betty Blue, or "the girlfriend" to My Darling Husband Kent. You couldn't help but love all 6 lbs. of her. Even when she was being eerily human in her sometimes manipulative female ways.

We had some optimistic ideas about bringing our 'girls', Betty and Veronica (my grandfather's name is Vince, but Veronica turned out to be a female, so we went with an Archie theme) out to New York with us. They'd lived for 12 years in a house, with a cat door. Free access to the world, and occasionally free access for raccoons to our world. But once we saw our apartment in Manhattan it became painfully obvious that this would not be in the best interest of anyone, particularly 'the girls'. Never mind the flight out here in a carrier.

After many close calls and unsuccessful attempts to find suitable homes in Seattle we resigned ourselves to the fact that these cats were going with us. Then like an absolute angel from beyond my wildest dreams my friend Dana's co-worker Kelsey showed up the night before MDHK's departure. I'd met Kelsey before and was aware of her kind, competent, resourceful nature. What I didn't know was that she lived in house with 4 other women in our neighborhood and they were looking to adopt and/or foster a couple of cats. "Are you frickin' kidding me?!!!". I could feel my heart soar. I threw Veronica in Kelsey's arms to charm her immediately.

A house meeting of the roommates was called. A vote was taken. The word was in; "Yes"! 'The girls' would go live with the girls.

Kelsey sent adorable photos via her phone as updates to relieve our worried and guilty minds. Betty seduced and Veronica charmed. All was good. Until Kelsey sent word that Betty was loosing a lot of weight despite the excessive feedings and they were going to take her in. I called the Vet, gave them my credit card and asked that they do whatever tests or x-rays necessary.

You can probably guess where this is going. After a round of antibiotics her white blood cell count was still triple what it should be. An x-ray showed what was most likely a cancerous growth in her stomach. She continued to loose weight and eventual most of her faculties.

Kelsey and her roommate Britta kept her near and us comforted but it was time. Time to celebrate what Betty had brought to us, what she would leave behind and just how much she was loved. As childless parents of two cats it was near impossible to make this decision from so far away, but it was time. Time to stop placing these human constraints on Betty's animal destiny. In Seattle"The Girls" had a dinner with friends that knew Betty and shared stories of her cuteness. In New York I laid on the couch until 3 a.m. alone in my grief and guilt crying until I could feel her pass through me on her way to kitty heaven. She was a good kitty. She had a good life.

Good night good kitty.

The Real Deal

Whether you're a native or newbie to a city sometimes you have to do touristy things just to cross them off the list and legitimately be able to say "been there, did that" the next time someone suggests it. I'm not talking about going up in the Space Needle or visiting the Statue of Liberty. Those are rites of passage. No, I'm talking about the $100 brunch at Pastise (yes, we made that mistake already) or going to a luau in Waikiki, Hawaii (I grew up in Hawaii so I'm exempt from that one). You know the kind of thing that makes you wonder which end of the horse you must hast have fallen off and how hard did you hit your head when you landed. Because if you were in your right mind you would not have done this voluntarily. Right?

However there are the things you do because they are just so damn real that not only will you do them once but you'd go back by yourself and do it again alone. They capture the essence of why you are there. Such as buying fresh seafood from the only saltwater tables in Pike Place Market at Jack's Fish Spot, stopping at a Stuckey's to buy floaty pens on Route 66, or throwing coins in the Trevi Fountain in Rome because John H. Secondari told us so (and you thought it had more to do with Clifton Webb, didn't you?).


Katz Deli is one of those places for me. It reminds of what is so amazing about living in New York. It is a hold-out on a street of hold-outs, such as Yonah Schimmel's Knishery, a block from what can only be referred to as the corner of "here and now" its so hip.(Ludlow and Rivington). It's also, if you didn't already know, the location of the famous fake orgasm scene with Meg Ryan & Billy Crystal in "When Harry Met Sally". And one of those places that you might wonder why you pay to be so abruptly treated. But the moment you look up into the eyes of man who will soon make you the most amazing thing on a plate and say "I'll have a pastrami reuben on rye with a side of mixed pickles" and he puts in front of you a small deli plate with a sample of the meat you are about to eat, there becomes no question in your mind why you love this place. It is without a doubt a very real experience, of true quality and culture that cannot be duplicated. In fact it is The Real Deal.

Picture perfect; pastrami reuben on rye, side of mixed pickles and a Dr. Brown's Root Beer