Slick, 4 April 2016-13 June 2026
Jun. 13th, 2026 01:59 pmSlick, aka Facecat, aka Licky Slicky, aka Editorial Assistant Cat, aka My Obnoxious Freaky Boy, aka The Creature, collapsed suddenly yesterday afternoon with what appeared to be catastrophic asthmatic pneumonia. (He has had the not-uncommon chronic feline sniffle for some time.) He was a good boy and came to his humans when he noticed things were badly wrong, and we got him to the hospital, but he declined abruptly around 3am. I got the kids up so we could troop over to the hospital to say goodbye. The younger two remained in the ICU while we eased the inevitable.
Slick is survived by his full sister Lilybelle and his adopted brother and sparring partner, Robin, as well as his shellshocked human family.
He was a good boy. Every time I talked to the vets, they said what a good boy he was. He loved getting up in my business and poking me in the face. He didn't know how to sit on laps so he would stand on people and rearrange frequently. Sometimes he would sort of crouch on my lap so that he could lick my fingers while I was typing and try to chew on my knuckles. He got on top of all kinds of furniture. When we were away for a week the catsitter called partway through in a panic saying he hadn't been seen, and we found him chilling on top of some shelving in the basement storage all "What? You know I don't like strangers." He had finally started chilling out and letting people who don't live here see and even pet him. He loved halves of plastic Easter eggs and would sing about them and play cat hockey with him. He was the best cat at understanding English. I could tell him "Timmy is not in the well" and he would stop yelling at me. He sounded, as KJ would say, like a squeaky door hinge. He used to spend a lot of time in the basement ceiling, and it's possible that old insulation up there is why he was asthmatic. The other cats would beg for protein scraps when people were making dinner (well, Robin begged; Lil would steal whatever Robin got) but his response to such things was, "What do you think I am, an animal?" Sometimes he did an adequate job of pretending to have a dignity, even though it was a lie. His belly was not a trap; he denied all existence of bellies. He had a white Superman-shield shaped shirtfront and two white stripes on his front right toe.
He was a good boy.
Slick is survived by his full sister Lilybelle and his adopted brother and sparring partner, Robin, as well as his shellshocked human family.
He was a good boy. Every time I talked to the vets, they said what a good boy he was. He loved getting up in my business and poking me in the face. He didn't know how to sit on laps so he would stand on people and rearrange frequently. Sometimes he would sort of crouch on my lap so that he could lick my fingers while I was typing and try to chew on my knuckles. He got on top of all kinds of furniture. When we were away for a week the catsitter called partway through in a panic saying he hadn't been seen, and we found him chilling on top of some shelving in the basement storage all "What? You know I don't like strangers." He had finally started chilling out and letting people who don't live here see and even pet him. He loved halves of plastic Easter eggs and would sing about them and play cat hockey with him. He was the best cat at understanding English. I could tell him "Timmy is not in the well" and he would stop yelling at me. He sounded, as KJ would say, like a squeaky door hinge. He used to spend a lot of time in the basement ceiling, and it's possible that old insulation up there is why he was asthmatic. The other cats would beg for protein scraps when people were making dinner (well, Robin begged; Lil would steal whatever Robin got) but his response to such things was, "What do you think I am, an animal?" Sometimes he did an adequate job of pretending to have a dignity, even though it was a lie. His belly was not a trap; he denied all existence of bellies. He had a white Superman-shield shaped shirtfront and two white stripes on his front right toe.
He was a good boy.

