Today is the ninth anniversary of Nancy's death. My daughter and I still miss her. She was our beautiful shiny black cat that we had for 15 years.
My daughter was seven when we adopted her and Nancy was five. We came to celebrate their birthdays together, even though we had no idea of Nancy's birth. She was abandoned at the meditation center we lived in when she was a tiny kitten. She was cared for by various folks at the center and managed to have a litter of kittens before anyone thought to have her spayed.
When her last caretaker before us, left the center, Nancy decided to move into the house we were in (among others -- it was kind of a hippy thing). There was already a little cat there, but Nancy was a bully and chased little Ting Ting next door. My daughter was much taken with Nancy. Her tail had been injured and the end was missing. Crystal felt that was the source of Nancy's anger -- she was angry because she didn't have a long tail like the other cats.
We loved Nancy -- she became a sweet lap-sitter as she got older and mellowed out. When she came in a room she always announced herself with a big meow. You had to acknowledge her by saying "Hello, Nancy" or she would just continue to meow. After she was answered she would contentedly lay down. She loved to have a conversation and would hold up her end until you got tired.
Her last years were hard for her -- she had a cancerous tumor above her eye. It was removed twice, but grew back. The last time it grew on her eyelid. The entire eye would have had to be removed and by then, her kidneys and liver were too weak to take such a huge operation. We had to let her go.
I'm here to say that the pain does get less, even though the missing never goes away. Today I can remember how much we loved her and how much fun she brought into our lives. The pain of the last year is not so hard as it was at first.
My daughter was seven when we adopted her and Nancy was five. We came to celebrate their birthdays together, even though we had no idea of Nancy's birth. She was abandoned at the meditation center we lived in when she was a tiny kitten. She was cared for by various folks at the center and managed to have a litter of kittens before anyone thought to have her spayed.
When her last caretaker before us, left the center, Nancy decided to move into the house we were in (among others -- it was kind of a hippy thing). There was already a little cat there, but Nancy was a bully and chased little Ting Ting next door. My daughter was much taken with Nancy. Her tail had been injured and the end was missing. Crystal felt that was the source of Nancy's anger -- she was angry because she didn't have a long tail like the other cats.
We loved Nancy -- she became a sweet lap-sitter as she got older and mellowed out. When she came in a room she always announced herself with a big meow. You had to acknowledge her by saying "Hello, Nancy" or she would just continue to meow. After she was answered she would contentedly lay down. She loved to have a conversation and would hold up her end until you got tired.
Her last years were hard for her -- she had a cancerous tumor above her eye. It was removed twice, but grew back. The last time it grew on her eyelid. The entire eye would have had to be removed and by then, her kidneys and liver were too weak to take such a huge operation. We had to let her go.
I'm here to say that the pain does get less, even though the missing never goes away. Today I can remember how much we loved her and how much fun she brought into our lives. The pain of the last year is not so hard as it was at first.