It's a little late for All Souls Day or Day of the Dead, but I've been cleaning out some drawers and found some pictures of my first cat, Gypsy Rose Lee:
She was fourteen years old and she'd just been diagnosed with diabetes, so I found a student worker at the library who'd take a pictures of her. It's not a great printout and I don't have a great scanner, so it's a little more atmospheric than I'd like (these were probably taken 10 years ago, in the early days of digital photography too).
She was Not Amused at being taken out of her home just for pictures. She was a tiny, fine-boned girl, who always kept her paws shiny white. She was also an editorial barfer–any time I did something she disapproved of she'd hork up a hairball in the middle of my bed.
Sally Rand went with us:
She might have been four. As soon as she was let out of her carrier Sally took off to explore the photographer's house. She pretty much takes things in stride.
In the same drawer I found the $20 that my grandmother gave me on her last Christmas (three years ago now?), and the program from her funeral. I'm not entirely sure what to do with the money–it doesn't seem right to just use it for lunch money.
I also found while I was straightening my cedar chest that I have four black cardigans, but they're all different, so I don't have too many, really.
Edited to add: Make that five black cardigans. But all different.