My wonderful, smart, and loving cat Buddy has died. That’s her pictured in my blog heading. She was with us for over 11 years and was very much a member of our family. She had an amazing understanding of words. When we said “Mousie,” she would go look for her favorite toy. If we said, “Birdy,” she would jump up and look out the window. If asked, “Do you want candy (treats)?” she would meow in response and paw our leg for more. If we asked, “Are you hungry?” we’d better be heading to the kitchen because she would be. Her favorite pastime was playing fetch with her mousie and she did it better than any dog. We'd toss it and she would run and get it and bring it back and drop it in front of us. She would do this over and over until she got too tired and then she would just lay down indicating she’d had enough. As our son Jay said when he learned of her death, “She was an awesome cat with a person’s personality.”
Buddy had a window seat where she could watch us when we went outdoors or watch the outside cats as they went about their business. If we were gone, she was always sitting on the seat waiting for us when we arrived home. When the door was unlocked, she would be there asking, “Where have you been? It’s time to feed me!” Now we come home to an empty house. She was always with us when we were home. It got to be a joke that we couldn’t go to the bathroom alone. She loved to get in the sink and drink from a stream of running water. I finally put a small fountain on the kitchen floor and she loved getting her water from it. She had her own piece of furniture, an old upholstered hassock that she literally shredded. It sits by Jim's recliner and she would sit there beside him when she wasn't napping on his lap. She had several major health problems over the years including having most of her teeth pulled and feline hepatitis, so I’m surprised she lived as long as she did, but I wanted her to live forever.
I buried her surrounded by her mousies including Squeaky that Jay got her for Christmas, and one of Jim’s old gloves that she liked to wrestle with and lay on. Mom gave me a solar-lighted dragonfly for Mother’s Day and I used that to mark her grave until we can get a proper pet marker.
I find myself hearing a little noise and turning around to talk to her but she’s not there. I think I see movement out of the corner of my eye but when I look, she’s not there. I go outside and look up at the window but she’s not there. But she is forever in my heart.
The Clockmaker's Daughter - Kate Morton
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