Badger was born in Kingsport, TN and given to my family when she was a kitten in 1994 (or possibly 1993). Her name sprang from her tendency to cling to things with the tenacity and ferocity of a badger. She was adorable and fun and we loved her. We did not expect her to last all that long; she was one of a string of family cats that had all been killed by cars or, in one case, drunk anti-freeze. But she went on to live 18 long years. She survived (and outlasted) four family dogs, being "fixed", getting attacked by a couple of stupid dogs, and a long, cross-country ride in a moving van. In her old age, she spent many hours curled up napping in the bushes and following my parents around or trying to get in the house, looking for love and affection. We expected her to die peacefully in her sleep one day, although she had no visible health problems. For such an old cat, she was in great shape--except for her hearing. She couldn't hear the car coming, and so she passed away in her own driveway, accidentally run over by Dad as he was (slowly, carefully) backing out of the driveway to go to Salt Lake to pick up Mike from the airport.
All of us that were in that car today--Dad, Mom, me--feel at fault. Mom has frequently worried that Badger wouldn't be able to hear the car coming, and so felt bad for not checking the driveway before we backed out. I had been thinking--for days before the accident--that I should be the one to drive, because I know Salt Lake better than my parents. Ultimately, I let Dad drive because I didn't want to. My car wasn't even in the driveway, so if I'd driven like I should have done, none of this would have happened. And of course, poor Dad was the one that was driving the car and dealt with the aftermath. It was a horrible way to go--to live 18 long healthy years and then to go out by car. But Badger lived a long, great life, and she made all of us in my family happy. We miss you, Badger, and we're so, so sorry.
Badger was afraid of inflatable furniture. I got an inflatable armchair for Christmas one year, and the sight of it blown up had her sprinting for cover, her eyes melon-sized. She spent a few months living a luxurious life as a house cat, when the neighbor's dog attacked and broke her foot. Badger was subjected to a cast and the "cone of shame". We kept her in the bathroom downstairs during the night, and she made sure I knew she was still there by banging on the door with her cast--all night. In December whenever we let her in the house, she loved napping under the Christmas tree, or under various beds. After the move to Utah, her age crept up on her, and suddenly her fur started clumping up. Every summer for the past three years, we've meticulously cut her fur down practically to the skin. It took weeks of daily sessions where we would sit on the lawn and do some cutting and coddling until she got sick of it (but she always came back for more). Not a great haircut at first, but once her fur grew back in, she looked great. She went out looking like a queen.
I'm an ADD middle school teacher, teaching technology and engineering. I love stars, pastries with custard in them, swimming, and my cute nieces and nephews!
Badger was born in Kingsport, TN and given to my family when she was a kitten in 1994 (or possibly 1993). Her name sprang from her tendency to cling to things with the tenacity and ferocity of a badger. She was adorable and fun and we loved her. We did not expect her to last all that long; she was one of a string of family cats that had all been killed by cars or, in one case, drunk anti-freeze. But she went on to live 18 long years. She survived (and outlasted) four family dogs, being "fixed", getting attacked by a couple of stupid dogs, and a long, cross-country ride in a moving van. In her old age, she spent many hours curled up napping in the bushes and following my parents around or trying to get in the house, looking for love and affection. We expected her to die peacefully in her sleep one day, although she had no visible health problems. For such an old cat, she was in great shape--except for her hearing. She couldn't hear the car coming, and so she passed away in her own driveway, accidentally run over by Dad as he was (slowly, carefully) backing out of the driveway to go to Salt Lake to pick up Mike from the airport.
All of us that were in that car today--Dad, Mom, me--feel at fault. Mom has frequently worried that Badger wouldn't be able to hear the car coming, and so felt bad for not checking the driveway before we backed out. I had been thinking--for days before the accident--that I should be the one to drive, because I know Salt Lake better than my parents. Ultimately, I let Dad drive because I didn't want to. My car wasn't even in the driveway, so if I'd driven like I should have done, none of this would have happened. And of course, poor Dad was the one that was driving the car and dealt with the aftermath. It was a horrible way to go--to live 18 long healthy years and then to go out by car. But Badger lived a long, great life, and she made all of us in my family happy. We miss you, Badger, and we're so, so sorry.
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