My oldest cat Winnie (1 inner trait) passed from this world to the next on 4/10/10 (an eight day…karmic). She lived a good cat life, never compromising her principles. Grouchy and sweet, by turns fat (but never quite able to pull off happy…I think placated is a better term) and then less fat. She was uncompromising. I was her human and her cranky 1 mirrored my own moodiness.
Funny thing, when I went looking for a cat 17 years ago, she wasn’t my first choice. There was another more affectionate boy feline who caught my fancy. He was a purr-boy and the only reason I didn’t take him home on the spot was a momentary uptick in my karmic 1 (19)- not trusting my own counsel. I determined I should put off the decision for a day, just to be sure.
The kitten that was Winnie-to-be was scratchy and ill-tempered. And she wanted nothing to do with me. She was deeply disaffected from being in the shelter and hewing closely to her brother litter mate. I assumed they’d be adopted together.
The next day when I returned to the shelter, set on adopting the other snuggly boy cat, I discovered he was gone (Damn my indecisive 1 !). So was Winnie’s brother. The brief passage of time had made Winnie-to-be worse for wear. She was now loud-mouthed and panic-stricken. She focused her desperation on me, literally tearing at my sleeve as I passed her cage. From the primal look in her eyes, I think we both knew that if I hadn’t taken her home that day, no one would have taken her. So I did. Period.
I miss her -alot- especially during breakfast and dinner, her favorite and most vocal times of the day…but I’m glad that hers was a story with a happy ending. “Indigent kitty with lots of personality finds a home and has a happy life for 17 tuna-juice filled years. ”
Thanks Winnie for choosing me. Say hi to Grandma and Dad, won’t ya?