Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

"All of my peers died of AIDS, and I have no one to celebrate my past or my journey, or to help me pass down stories to the next generation. We lost an entire generation of storytellers with HIV." -- David Mixner

My sweet, sweet Perrine, the cat who squeaked, drama-kitty, who wandered into my life thirteen and a half years ago mostly starved and proceeded to give me affection, stories, and the occasional live mouse over the years, died around 18:45 tonight after an undetermined illness^[*].

I am not thinking straight. I'm not sure I'm really thinking. My head seems to have turned into a snot-factory. If you want to know how I'm doing ... I don't know yet. I'll figure that out when I can think again.

I got thirteen and a half years of stories. She got thirteen and a quarter years of better health than she came to me with, and a human to sleep on. Thirteen years ... wasn't enough.

2016 really fucking sucks.

[*] Blood tests and physical exaam ruled out most of the easy-to-treat stuff and all of the easy-to-diagnose things, so we were in a "try to treat the symptoms and watch for more clues" stage.