While formatting and pulling some of my older pictures from my laptop that we are going to give to another resident of the hotel, I found some very beloved pictures.

Some of them of my grandma during her birthday. Others of weird stuff I've seen while meandering through life.

And then, there is "Killer".

She was cold so I made her a bed and she popped out of it like this. The squee I made was painful.

Most people that have spent any time around aircraft know about hangar cats. Much like farm cats, their jobs are to patrol the area and rid it of pests, also, to give many lovings to workers on their breaks.

One day, I was slaving away in the heat of the stifling hangar, covered in fiberglass and hate. We had recently lost the other hangar cat at the ripe age of 14 to cancer. The owner of the company was heartbroken. And then his son showed up with a little mewing box.

And I shat rainbows everywhere.

There was now a tiny bundle of fur no bigger than my hand following me all over the shop and sitting on my feet while I worked. The owner named her "Rosie" after Rosie the Rivetter, but I thought she looked more like a "Killer the Kamikaze Kitten" to me. So that's what I called her.

After a while all I had to do was say:

"Hisshiss Get 'em, Killer!"

And she would launch onto anything I pointed at.

Preparing to strike. Though she be but small, she is fierce.

Her first successful kill, the vicious and deadly cable snake.

I loved her to bits.

She became my everyday buddy. Where ever I was working, she was there. Either overseeing, watching my back for bugs to chew on, or distracting me with her infinite cuteness.

When she first arrived!

Have a Killer picture dump!

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She rarely stood still

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On cold days she would curl up in my hoodie and sleep there the whole time I worked. It was kind of hard trying to build a plane with a snoozing kitten in my clothes, but I damn well did it anyway.