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January 18, 2008



My favorite Bobo memory is how when I'd housesit for you, he'd climb up on the edge of the bed and walk around that platform. He'd meow SO LOUDLY and then want to head-but me.

I'm sorry Marco. RIP Bobo.


Lovely tribute. (Still remember Annie's.) Boris used to let me pet him and rub his ears, but then he'd sneeze all over me. That cat sure could spray mocos, and he'd always wait until I got close enough to give him a kiss. Instant facial hydration. I'll miss not seeing him amid the menagerie. Glad he had a second chance with you, and I'm so sorry for your loss.


I've always said any pets rescued by you are lucky, but the pets don't know from lucky. What is just is. Cats that live more than 20 years old must be well taken care of. Then the last thing they leave us with is sadness when they die. But they teach us to look beyond the sadness to the good times, a good lesson. Boris didn't think these things, but he knew he was being cared for and repaid the care with his devotion; a great trade for you. Boris RIP I'll miss you too.


How strange, I was just wondering how Bobo was doing. Sometimes other guests would make fun of him 'cause he could just sit and stare at a wall. I think it's because he didn't have fingers to run a calculator - it's hard to do advanced astrophysics in your head.


Sad! Obviously, every life is worth, but we Ethiopians as much as we love our pets, we've a different level of emotion, feeling than Americans. I wonder how "Mammoosh the gardner" were thinking?

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