You’ve been gone for a week and I miss you terribly. I wish you would show up at the deck door, meowing like crazy and climbing the screen to get attention. I know that with each day that passes my chances of seeing you again lessen, but I haven’t given up yet.
Over and over I see the last moments I’d seen you replay in my head. You were at the patio door, waiting for Maya. She came out the door and the two of you went to watch and chase the birds in the yard. I never thought it would be the last time I saw you; I wish I would have watched a moment longer.
I remember the summer evenings on the deck, me reading and you playing with my sandals. You jumped up onto the chair I was using as an ottoman and started playing with my feet. You became so brave over this summer. I’ll always remember playing with you through the screen door, and how you’d catch my hand and nibble on my fingertip. I was never allowed to pet you, though. That was your way.
I can picture you sleeping in the rain shelter with Maya. You and Maya on the deck, in the sun, waiting for Joe Grey to come by, then off you went with him. You and Joe Grey spent a lot of time together; he never pushed you around like your brothers/sisters/colony cats did. (You brought around Tomcat, too. You and the boys, Katie…)
You’ve brought a lot of joy into my life, pretty girl. I’ll always miss you, and I’ll always look forward to seeing you again. Love you, Katiecat.