So there I was in the middle of bachelorhood with my roommate with a not quite six week old kitten given to me by a friend. We had him for about two days and couldn't decide upon a name.

Then, on June 23rd, 1990, we were watching the final episode of the 3rd season of Star trek, The Next Generation. As soon as Jean Luc Picard declared, "I am Locutus of Borg," both of us immediately turned to each other and knew that was it!

Well, Locutus was a bit tough on friends and family, so his name eventually turned into just Borg, or Borgie, Borgus, Borgus Smorgus, and every other conceivable name that any pet owner knows comes with that territory.

Borg was born on May 10th, 1990 and died on June 16th, 2009. He was quite a guy. He survived after getting hit by a car when he escaped once when he was about two. I still have the x-rays of the fractured hip somewhere around here. He had asthma when he was young but it went away. He was diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy at age 14, but two years later there was no sign of that disease. In early 2007 he was diagnosed with lymphoma, and he was very ill until we took him off all medications a few months later and he bounced back yet again and never showed signs of that disease again either.

He ended up having the afflictions common to so many old cats, failing kidneys, weight loss, etc. Our vet told us about one month ago that he wasn't going to make this easy on us as he was such a hearty guy.

We finally made the call to euthanize him when he showed some obvious discomfort for the first time earlier this week. He was no longer himself and it was time.

For over 19 years he was my companion and friend. I lived with Borg longer than any other thing on Earth, including my parents and wife (so far, Honey).

We miss his antics, his endless demands for food prepared just the right way, his brilliant green eyes, and especially his absence from his rightful place on our bed.

There's a hole in us the size of Alaska that will not fill anytime soon.

We love you Borg.

Mitch and Josephine