Mortey died August 17, 2000 a few minutes after 10 am.
An Obituary and Memorial for Mortey
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MORTEY BIO: A few loose facts and random anecdotes
Although he was usually called Mortey, his name was more formally Le Petit Mort (yes, the cat was named after the French slang for orgasm).
Less than a month before he died, we took him to the vet after it became obvious to us he was really sick. Mortey had been born a runt in either 1991 or 1992 and had been known to suffer occasional strange illnesses, so we were hoping this one was just another one of his "poetic, consumptive-like" illnesses.
The most famous of his historical illnesses occurred when he was about two or three, and he lapsed into a short and terrible fever only emerge and promptly lose huge patches of his hair. Mortey, often an over-friendly cat who would fling himself on visitors' laps and say "love me!" continued in this practice while he looked mangled and spotty without his hair, thus frightening and repelling many of my guests who were quite naturally disturbed by the cat's appearance.
We dubbed him affectionately, during this phase, "leprosy kitty."
Mortey was always funny about guests. Although usually overly loving, he had been known to draw blood for no real discernible reason. Sudden whim.
Other names Mortey was called during certain periods, included: "Ecstasy Kitty," "Yoga Kitty," and "the cat who pee'd in my laser printer and blew out the motherboard." Mortey sometimes liked to sit, balanced, on top of doors. From his precarious perch, he would occasionally lose his balance and fall on someone going through said doors, surprising the hell out of himself and the person he fell upon.
Laszlo says that now Mortey is free to sit on the tallest doors.
I, thus, speculate as to whom he might fall on.
This photo of Mortey was taken in 1998.
These were our three cats once. Mortey, on top of the box; Alecto carting a Q-tip around; and Tiffy seeming to scowl at the scene.
Tiffy had been Laszlo's childhood cat. Seen here, sometime in 1998, Laszlo had her put to sleep that year as she was suffering an ubiquitous agéd cat deterioration and had more maladies than she once had Persian hair ...
Alecto, the youngest of the cats (born of le Marquis's Harley) in 1996, survives both of them and is convinced that the outside world is a bad, bad place as cats who come back from the outside (i.e., a trip to the Vet) smell funny and tend to die soon afterwards.
She is not a Crone kitty. She has some issues with this death business and wants nothing to do with it.
Selected Bio :: Funeral
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