Georgia

After a long life of eating, napping, companionship, and plotting to overthrow humanity and rule the world, Georgia has left this world.

Georgia was adopted by my aunt, who learned that she was allergic to cats and invited me to adopt her.  I brought her back to my puny 1-bedroom apartment in Denton, TX, and our lives have been joined since.  She was the perfect lap-cat, whether I was reading, playing video games, or just watching TV.  I think she was also very empathetic; able to sense when I needed comfort.

I will miss her greatly, but I also understood when I left for Colorado that I might be saying goodbye to her for the last time.

After the jump I've included a couple pictures and stories of our time together.

Georgia seemed to always want to go outside, which scared me to no end.  I was too protective to let her out; afraid that she might become intoxicated with freedom and leave.  But usually, her ventures outside were designed for nothing more than to roll around in the dirt.  My mother once said that it might have felt good against her skin, but I know she did it to annoy me.

  

She did not like to wear things, or have things placed on to her.  Here, she wears the shirt bought for her when Mike and I got married.  She also once deigned to wear a wig with blond stockings flowing from it.  Afterwards, she scowled for hours.

If I wasn't sure how I felt about having a new puppy, Georgia was.  Her initial reaction that I had betrayed her is apparent in this photo, but in time, she would grow to tolerate and then even love her sisters.

To me, though, Georgia will always be the cat in my lap.  In my lap when I had gotten home from brain scans to assess whether it was a cancerous growth causing my eyes not to work right.  In my lap the first time I played Pokemon.  In my lap while I read Harry Potter, and about zombies, and even while studying.  And it's my lap where I miss her the most, wondering if any creature will ever fill the gap she has left.