#9 An Offhanded Memorial
My Sweet Baby Kitten, I have discovered a way to remember you, and pay loving tribute to you in a way that doesn't make me cry. But you're not going to like it. It is said that memorials aren't for the dead, but for those they leave behind. In that light I defend my actions and this new policy of mine that brings your name to our lips, but not tears to our eyes, nearly every day. Are you ready? Okay. Whenever I fart. I blame it on you. That's it, that simple. When I expel gas from my ass I say. "Kitten!" in an admonishing tone. I don't know if you were aware of it, but I would occasionally throw you under the farty bus while you were alive. Why not do it now when you cannot defend yourself. If you did we would rejoice in such a haunting... as soon as we recovered from our heart attacks. Oh come on, quit pouting. Shouldn't you be pleased to provide me with such a valuable service, if you can recall, many, many times a day. What's im