April, White Kitty, died today.
She was a lanky, stray, semi cross eyed cat that adopted us almost two years ago.
She literally threw herself at our feet,
meowing and purring at a used car lot.
When I put her in the car my son said,
"Dad is going to kill you."
Where upon I responded,
"I can't leave her here to die..."
"Well I could..."
"You could," I questioned?
By now she is between the seats rubbing against us and purring even louder.
"Well... maybe not..."
And that was that.
After we brought her home,
we took her to the vet only to discover that this ugly, lanky, semi cross eyed cat had feline leukemia.
The vet cautioned us to put her down but I couldn't...
not right then.
She was so vibrant, so unique, so personable, so loving and yet so ethereal.
So we brought the cat who would most likely die home to be loved till the end.
That was two years ago, the year after Mom died.
Something about this cat who seemed to adore me in particular was comforting,
My mother loved cats,
and they loved her.
It was as if it was a little heavenly gift was sent to comfort me in a way I could not comfort myself.
White kitty never forgot where she came from.
She was my stalker kitty.
If I was out in the yard, she was right there with me.
Always, always purring.
Always, always in your lap or lazily lounging beside you.
So just as April comforted and supported me,
today we comforted and supported her.
She was like a brief, but beautiful shooting star.
A totally unexpected little bit of fluff that loved, trusted and brought joy to my life.
I will miss her.