Her name was Chi-chi, a cat adopted from a shelter in 1991 (born ’90, feral). We were looking for a playmate for our big male cat home & she seemed to be very playful. (Hey, lets see You play with visitors through your cell bars after a year in solitary…!) She kind of picked me…and we took her. Yes she had funky mixed fur and a really long tail (she could sit & cover her front toes with it) but there was something about her.
At first, I was worried about all the ‘fighting’ that seemed to go on between them. She’d scream and complain and we’d yell at him for bothering her. Later, we figured out that she was actually starting fights with him (walking up to him while he slept and slapping the back of his head with her paw). Given he weighed almost 3 times as much as her, I thought that was pretty brave. My wife later told me that it was how girl cats initiate romance with boy cats, so I’m pretty sure she was having a good time of it.
She played when she wanted to, but could disappear between feedings for what seemed like days. She had Amazing balance and a sincere love for heights, often to the dismay of the 30-pound and un-graceful Tom she’d just slapped. Sometimes she’d sit behind me on the chair at my PC and purr into my ear as I typed or read or gamed…or sit on my shoulder like a feline parrot.
She loved my children when they were born, but she hid from them in recent years. And I was angry when she pissed on the PS2 controllers (that was No Accident, girl). Still, she was sweet, and would roll on the newspaper like a Republican censor while I sipped my coffee on Sunday mornings during ‘Meet the Press’.
She had lost a lot of weight lately, and when she walked you could hear her bones hitting the linoleum on the kitchen floor. Jumping became too difficult. Still, she came to me just last weekend when I was finishing up my son’s Pinewood Derby car, and I picked her up to my lap & petted her for over an hour.
Friday, my wife made me aware: Chi-chi had stopped eating. Now my wife has had dozens of cats over the years & knew the signs; she clued me in that Chi-Chi was fading fast. I spent 2 hours with her Friday night, stroking her gently & making sure she had water. By Saturday, she’d moved to a space by the furnace in the basement, ostensibly to die. I visited her twice yesterday and spent time stroking and praising her until she looked aggravated & wanted me to leave. My last visit, she cried out at the end…a low husky-throaty cry that reminded me of one of the kids’ toys where the battery had just given out in mid operation. I left to let her rest, her whole side inflating and contracting with labored breathing. When I awoke this morning, she was cold and stiff and quite dead.
Look, I know that I needed to write this more than anyone needs to read it or reply to it, so if this OP dies a quick death and sinks quickly to page 2, I won’t mind. In my mind she was just sitting on the back of my chair as I typed this, with her eyes closed & her tongue sticking half-way out, softly trill-purring at all of you. That’s what I choose to believe anyway.
I am so sorry! tears running down face You will always feel her presence on your chair. It was her place to be. Many prayers coming your way. Friends of mine lost a cat in Sept. he took off and never came home. Then a week ago or so their cat Stanley got caught in the garage door and was killed instanly. They didn’t find him until 12:30 AM :eek: 
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