White 99

The first pet that I got to name was a white cat. Being a mildly autistic four-year-old, I named it "White 99" because I loved looking at atlases and named it after Highway 99, which was white on the map.

He (she? I don't remember) was a good cat. I remember being curious as to how our cockatiel, Sid (named after Sid Vicious because she looked like Sid Vicious when my mom and dad bought her years before I was born) would make weird noises when White 99 walked by. I didn't understand that Sid was threatened by the predator kitten at the time.

But sadly, White 99's time on this earth would be short. It was November 12, 1989, in Los Altos, CA. 1191 Payne Dr. I was across the street. Maybe it had rained recently (the drought finally having ended) because I remember digging in the mud with my neighbor and friend Brian. I had boogers in my nose at the time, just getting over a mild cold.

White 99 saw Brian and I digging in the mud and wanted to help us. But he/she would never make it across that street, as a car driving too fast down Payne Dr hit White 99, ending his life forever.

That is when I learned about death. I was inconsolable at first until my mom told me I would live to be 100, and then I was happy once again. But my mom was wrong. I'm going to live to be 116 and see the 22nd century!