were a part of my life even before you were born, daughter of my cat,
Sugar, and my sister's cat, Trouble. An only kitten, you were a one-person
cat; fortunately, I was that person.
We started out in California, lived in Texas
for awhile, then eventually settled in Florida. For a week on vacation
in North Carolina, we both lived in my little Pinto hatchback...what
a trip that was, and you were the perfect travelling companion.
When you were diagnosed with diabetes and had
to have shots twice a day for the rest of your life, I was always amazed
at how well you adapted. Suddenly life was topsy-turvy, and my schedule
revolved around yours. I still chuckle when I remember how my roommate
and I took you to the Skyway with us, clamming, so that we'd be able
to give you your evening shot, thinking you'd be content to stay in
jon boat. We heard the "plop" "plop" of feet in
the water, turned, and saw you nonchalantly heading for shore!
After all these years, I had nearly forgotten
about the time I was recuperating at home after surgery. You'd sit with
me in the chair while I watched nature shows on the public tv station...you
were fascinated with the animals, particularly the birds. You had a
favorite video tape of one of the shows, and I'd play it over and over
for you, getting such a kick out of watching you watching it!
As the years passed, the diabetes took its toll.
Every now and then you'd have a diabetes-related crisis, but you always
pulled through. That last time, I thought for sure you would too, but
it was not to be. It was my birthday when the vet called me at work
to tell me you had not survived the night. I'm so sorry I wasn't there
with you, Mittens. I hope you know how very much I loved you, and can
forgive me for those times when I was less than patient and far from
The oak tree I planted in your memory here after
you died is strong, tall, and beautiful now. Squirrels and birds make
their homes in it, and it shades the whole side of the house...you'd
love it, I know.