One of the things that stands out in my mind from my trip back home is the fact that my cat, Lucky, who I got in the third grade is STILL alive, but barely, as observed in the picture. She just turned 18 and my family is convinced she will outlive us all. In fact, my brother and I have a theory that she plans to sneak herself into our parents will and steal the house out from under us. She has outlived 3 of our dogs, done the Oprah weight gain, gone blind, mellowed into a lap cat, and most recently she's thinned herself into a Zombie. (She's so topical! - Notice in the picture the lack of weight and inability to keep her head up).

In many ways she's become a tragic metaphor of my childhood; not quite gone, but basically, it's over. She now just walks around in circles, eats, and pees in the fenced off section of the kitchen. Yet she's still as happy as a clam and purrs as soon as you pet her, probably because she knows she's so close to owning the house and when she does she'll pee where ever she wants! She's totally Charlie Sheen "winning!" on us.