it’s two years later, and i still can’t believe how lucky i was to share sixteen years of my life with the siamese cat i called chloe.

one look into her piercing azure eyes that november day in 1993, and i was hooked. she came home with me that evening and never left. i was enchanted by her stubby tail, her deliciously chocolately seal points, and the gaze i came to realize was laden with wisdom and truth and understanding. she was quiet yet fierce, intensely loyal, and always the embodiment of beauty and grace. she was the best of everything good i’ve ever known.

the years treated us well, save for a few mishaps — most notably the window ledge incident and the porch roof escapade — but we survived the adventures, and she was always there to curl up with me at the end of each day and quietly lull me to sleep with her velvety purr.

it was a good life, filled with pillows and smiles and nicknames and sunbeams. and love, so much love.

it was a life well-lived.

the lymphoma and renal failure eventually slowed her step and tired her body, but there was always a twinkle of fire in her eyes, and when she looked at me that saturday morning in may, i knew. it was time. there was only one thing left for me to do.

and so, on that clear, sunny morning, joined by the people who loved her, i said goodbye to my sweet, sweet girl — my chloe.

today, as yesterday, and as tomorrow,
she is missed as she was loved –

g r e a t l y .

cats never strike a pose that isn’t photogenic. (lillian jackson braun)

if cats could talk, they wouldn’t. (nan porter)

it’s one year later, and i still can’t believe how lucky i was to share sixteen years of my life with the siamese cat i called chloe.

one look into her piercing azure eyes that november day in 1993, and i was hooked. she came home with me that evening and never left. i was enchanted by her stubby tail, her deliciously chocolately seal points, and the gaze i came to realize was laden with wisdom and truth and understanding. she was quiet yet fierce, intensely loyal, and always the embodiment of beauty and grace. she was the best of everything good i’ve ever known.

the years treated us well, save for a few mishaps — most notably the window ledge incident and the porch roof escapade — but we survived the adventures, and she was always there to curl up with me at the end of each day and quietly lull me to sleep with her velvety purr.

it was a good life, filled with pillows and smiles and nicknames and sunbeams. and love, so much love.

it was a life well-lived.

the lymphoma and renal failure eventually slowed her step and tired her body, but there was always a twinkle of fire in her eyes, and when she looked at me that saturday morning last may, i knew. it was time. there was only one thing left for me to do.

and so, on that clear, sunny morning, joined by the people who loved her, i said goodbye to my sweet, sweet girl — my chloe.

today, as yesterday, and as tomorrow,
she is missed as she was loved –

g r e a t l y .

cabin fever set in for me yesterday evening — two plus feet of snow can do that to a person. while trying to find something interesting to bide my time, i remembered that my nikon d90 shoots video (in addition to still pictures), so i grabbed my camera and decided to give my dearest sophie an open forum to discuss her musings on the snowpocalypse.

you may find her thoughts enlightening, inspiring, or perhaps just cute.

unfortunately, a very sick kitty has been added to the mix — my “niece” cat, maizy, or “beepy” for short.  in the span of a week, beepy has been diagnosed with diabetes mellitis, hepatic lipadosis and now pancreatitis.  she’s currently admitted to the local veterinary emergency hospital, with a feeding tube and an IV in place for supportive care.

she’s been through more than her share of trials in her life of fourteen years, including radiation treatments for hyperthyroidism and a near-septic event following the surgical removal of a foreign body from her intestines, but she pulled through everything and the expectation is that she will pull through this latest series of events.  she has to.

still, it’s heartbreaking.  maizy may walk on four furry feet, but i consider her my kin.

get well soon, beepy.

just keep your eyes on her horizon. (t. amos)

in ancient times cats were worshipped as gods;
they have not forgotten this. (t. pratchett)

i love you more than one more day.

she was my unwaivering companion and confidant. even though her kidneys had failed and her step had slowed, she still looked at me with wisdom and grace and i can only be grateful to have shared in her life.

i wrote the following piece in january of 2001. it’s chloe’s story.

animals exist, even in my earliest memories, as friends, as companions, as fellow travelers on the road of life. the purr of a sleeping cat, the wag of a dog’s tail –- these things speak to me in a way that transcends words — they always have. i guess that’s why i knew, from the first moment i looked into her blue eyes that chloe and i would be friends for a lifetime.

it was a clear autumn afternoon in 1993 and I was working as a veterinary nurse. a client walked in clutching a frightened cat.

“i can’t keep her,” she began, “but i just couldn’t leave her either.”

she continued to tell me the story of the blue-eyed feline. she belonged to a family with four small children who spent their time chasing the cat until she found safety under a bed, too scared to come out for days at a time. an ‘accident’ of unknown circumstance had amputated the tip of her tail, leaving her with a four-inch stub. at some point, her owners decided to free themselves of her burden by promptly escorting her out of their house.

homeless and foodless, the cat wondered to the house of a neighbor – the very person who was now standing before me.

“i hope you can find her a more suitable home,” she said.

i agreed to provide a ‘temporary’ home for the cat – who i named chloe.

very shy and frightened, chloe spent the first week of her stay with me under the safety of my bed. slowly, she began to emerge, sporadically at first, but then with more frequency. eventually, she left the comfort of her hiding place and started exploring the rest of the house. she would soon meet and befriend the other cats, maisy and chester.

needless to say, chloe captured my heart with her kind spirit and forgiving nature. Her ‘temporary’ stay with me became a permanent stay. every night, before sleep, she takes her place at the foot of my bed. we exchange smiles, and as i look into her brilliant blue eyes, i thank her for finding her way into my life and into my heart.

goodbye, sweet girl.  i love you.