Here Lies Ivy - A Good Cat

Ivy died on the operating table this afternoon, a victim of her only vice - eating things that weren't meant to be eaten.

'Twas the dental floss that did her in.

Dr. Karst-vorkian assisted little Ivy in her efforts. He was the one that somehow fished the tiny 12 yards of woven, mint-flavor floss out of the child-proof-lock-protected bathroom cupboard and unwound the full length into a nice straight line for Ivy's subsequent ingestion.

Ivy had tested these waters many times in the past, but always with much shorter material such as Easter basket grass or balloon ribbons. 12 yards simply proved to be too long.

Without going into too much detail, the floss "see-sawed" back and forth and wore several holes in Ivy's intestinal walls. One hole is operable - they just cut out the bad section and splice the rest back together - but five holes is a lost cause. 

Ivy was a good cat. She didn't like kids much, because they always chased her around. But she never hurt them. She enjoyed adult visitors and liked to coat their pant legs with hundreds of thin, white hairs. Ivy never had any formal education, nor was she employed outside of the home. An unfortunate accident in her youth left her sterile and thus, Ivy is not survived by any feline family - just one brother, two sisters, and her parents, all of whom are human.

We'll miss you, Ivy. Thanks for 10 fun years!