My wife's cat, Livia, Empress of Rome, whom I adopted through marriage, died on Christmas Day after battling diabetes for eight years, and cancer. She was sixteen. Like her namesake, Livia (aka Kitty) was evil incarnate until the birth of Rhiannon at which point she became a nurturing, well-mannered lap-cat. Her Latin pronunciation of ligatures and of diphthongs was remarkable, although her vocabulary was limited. Livia also attended at least two AIA/APA annual meetings, entertaining guests to the conference hotel room with hissing and spitting. She will be missed by most, even by my father-in-law from whom she drew blood every time she saw him. She is survived by her family including one trembling yellow lab whom she bullied, 11 pounds to his 115. Vale, puella.