I knew when I met you in 1999 that you were special. I was eating a bagel at the little coffee shop across from my work when you siddled up to me and sat down, daintily flicking your tail out behind you. You were begging for a bite of my bagel, and I obliged. You looked hungry, and determined. You were such a strong cat. Able to fend for yourself, and still look like a sweet little kitten, even though you were over two years old.
I remember your first week at your new home at Clint's, when you were sleeping at the foot of the bed, snoring as if you hadn't ever slept. And then the sound of birds twittering around the open window at the head of the bed, you were across the bed and out the window and back inside with a bird in your mouth. What skill!
I remember when you surveyed your new territory, swatting your giant Hemmingway paws at an intruder cat while running full speed on just your hind legs.
And when you first met Pickle, how you literally scared him down the steps.
I remember how tough it was to share that tiny pink house with Puddy and Pickle, but you perservered, and carved out a territory for yourself, always happy.
I will miss your head snuffles and snuggling on my chest with one paw stretched up over my shoulder. I will miss your little meow greetings, and sleeping on my hair.
You caught so many mice and moles and birds, and rolled and sunned yourself to your heart's content on the back deck, and wherever you are now, I hope you get to enjoy all of your favorite things and more. I miss you very much. We all do.
