That's
right, named after the infamous Ibsen heroine. All beauty and
poise,
but she's a real mama's girl. My family has a running joke about
whether or not Hedda actually exists, since she often hides on
strangers.
Despite being a shop mascot of sorts, she prefered to stay at
home.
She never really considered herself a cat. A window otter, sure;
a caterpillar, yes; a soulmate, absolutely. The shared tenth
birthday/anniversary
party for Hedda and Loganberry was a huge party and advertising event,
but Hedda didn't attend. There were prizes for finding her
picture
at the shop, though, and people still seek her out. Some beauty
is
fleeting, and soul mates scarce. Hedda was my first cat, my true
love. I am devastated to report that she did not
survive
surgery to remove an infected kidney on June 27, 2006. Rest in
peace,
darling Hedda.
Postcard
Series
9/18/2005
the last photo... hiding out under the checkout counter...
