We lost one of our sixteen-year-old kitties today. Patch was never what I would call an affectionate cat – she was standoffish and, frankly, more than a little weird, but her passing has left a hole in my life.
Patch and her sibling, Emily, pre-date my DH in my life. When he first started to visit, Emily would climb all over him, as if she were saying ‘pick him! Pick him!’. Patch, being Patch, hid. She always disappeared whenever anyone came to the house.
This is a cat who once got stuck with her hind feet on the piano and her front feet on the table, unable to get from one to the other. Who once walked in my watercolors and left French Ultramarine pawprints on my kitchen floor.
Patch walked to the beat of her own drum, but she was part of the family. Sending her over the rainbow bridge was the right thing to do, but we’ll miss her.
Happy mousing in the Elysian fields, Patch. Until we meet again.