Yesterday Betty shed this mortal coil. Hers was a hard life, yet one filled with periods of joy of which we are blessed to remember. She was a small kitty who sauntered into our lives one summer afternoon.
She was ever a good cat, named Betty for her “Betty Davis Eyes.” She was a small kitty, who found a supreme joy in playing with small foam balls, which she would bound down the hallway to bat around when thrown for her. She was also a lap cat, who was very affectionate. Most people who knew her remember her for her voice, which was a squeaky sound; sometimes she was affectionately called “squeakers.”
One of her favorite pastimes was to sit under the hostas and enjoy the gardens of which she wandered and decided to stay for the remainder of her life.