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...
