Bonnie lived a long and prosperous, if somewhat Ill-tempered cat-life until I went to college. In keeping with the usual practice he was not neutered. He became a regular challenger in a series of battles with various intruders into the back yard. His once handsome, but now impudent mug began to bear the scars and open wounds of a losing prizefighter. Some of the wounds became infected and would not heal. He was a fright to look at. On Spring Break I returned to find that my mother had, “Sent Bonnie to heaven.” I was furious that she had not even consulted me. In retrospect it’s just as well she didn’t.