In the early days of 1997, I was living in a tiny rental house on Hurd Street with my then-fiancé. The house was older and it actually had the mailbox attached to the house on the front porch...one day, I opened the front door to collect the mail, and in walked a tiny gray cat, who had seemingly been standing at the door waiting.
She marched into the little house, surveyed me and her surroundings, and after apparently deciding we would suit her needs, plopped down on the rug. She purred contentedly and I scratched her head. We became her people, because she adopted us.
She was an older kitten, according to the vet...probably 6-8 months old. We had her spayed immediately. She was the most affectionate cat I had ever encountered. She loved everyone, and lived to be around people. There was nothing aloof or arrogant about this cat. She was all sweetness...unless you were a mouse.
As a mouser, she was fierce and dedicated. She was small her whole life...about 6 pounds at her heaviest point. She had tiny, delicate feet and a pretty, dainty face. She looked so ladylike...and yet if a mouse dared to cross the threshhold of any of our homes, she would hunt them down like a trained assassin.
She was incredibly quiet, and said very little. She moved with her poor college-aged newlywed parents from pillar to post and lived in 6 different houses. She had excellent manners and a kind disposition. When we had our girls, she showed no jealousy, and rook right to loving them, and would curl up next to them for naps in their cribs if we forgot to shut the door..
She WAS exasperated 5 years ago when Santa brought a kitten to our house. She was far more exasperated in April when I adopted a Great Dane/Lab mix puppy as a watch dog. Still, there was no question of her gentle but firm authority. She may have been the smallest, most soft-spoken animal in the house, but it was entirely her domain.
In her senior years, she lost all of her teeth. I bought her canned food and gave her extra love. She went partially blind, but her spirits and happy disposition never wavered.
This morning, or sometime last night, she left us for good. It appears as though she simply went to sleep. When she didn't come out to be fed or come when she was called, I knew something was very wrong. I was right.
Some parts of it I couldn't handle. I called my dear friend Adam to help me do the part I could not bring myself to do. I am so blessed to have such good people in my life.
And I was so blessed to have nearly 18 happy years with her. She brought me so much joy, especially in the past 2 years since my divorce. When I had double pneumonia, she knew. From the day I started to feel under the weather through my fever-induced delirium, she stayed by my side. When I was crippled by depression for several months that summer and fall, she was there, all the time. Her loyalty touched and comforted me. When I was laid up with a broken ankle this past summer, she planted herself next to me and refused to leave my side.
Tonight I am heartbroken beyond words, and have cried so many tears, I'm surprised the well is not yet dry. But I am also grateful for the kindness and love shown to me by so many. Ashley, Sarah, Levi, Adam, Deanna, Adrienne, Emily, Chani, Todd, Cari, and my parents, in particular...not to mention everyone who reached out on facebook and in text messages. So many people made me feel loved in the face of sorrow. I am blessed beyond measure to have had this sweet fur baby in our family for so many years.
The girls are taking it hard, especially Sara...she's taking it every bit as hard as I am. I'm sure there are people out there who think it's silly to make such a fuss over a cat. But she was mine...before I was even married. Before I had my girls. She was mine, and she was beloved.
Farewell, Sweet Sam. I hope you're walking around in Kitty Heaven with a full set of teeth and restored vision, enjoying a tuna sandwich. :)
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