A Girl and Her Cats

When I was six we met for the first time. It wasn’t by chance as we knew who we were looking for. However we had to find “the one”. Sure there were a few we could have picked but we picked her. And lucky for us if we had waited one more day we would have never met. I guess you can say it was meant to be. When we got home, Mom was surprised but really she didn’t mind. Sure she wasn’t what Mom expected but really Mom didn’t mind.

I remember opening the back door a few times or even the front door and she would be there in my face. Why would she be in my face, you ask? Because she is Moira, my tiger-tabby cat, who would climb the screen door to “knock” as Mom called it to be let in. There were times she even left presents for us at the back door and if we didn’t see them she would carry them around and leave them at the front door. Moira was really proud of the gifts she left for us.

Through the years Moira had become my best friend. Best friends with a cat really? Yup, really. Mom would get mad at me because I would always carry her around. I would sometimes dress her up in baby clothes and carry her around like she was a baby. Moira didn’t like it much. There were times when she would just hang over my shoulder and let me carry her. Mom would get mad when I would take her to my room. Eventually it wasn’t an issue because Moira would come in my room on her own and sleep with me. 

There were times I would give Moira baths. She didn’t like baths. She would cry and complain but she never scratched me or tried to get away that I could remember. She would be mad at me for a little bit afterwards but she always came around to sit or lay with me.

When I was thirteen we took in another cat, named Shadow. He was just a kitten that my Mom thought was a girl. Silly Mom. Moira and Shadow didn’t get along at first but they too eventually because best friends. I would come home from school and find them both snuggled close sleeping on my bed. Shadow wasn’t as close to me as Moira was but I loved them both the same.

There were times when Shadow would be a little booger to Moira. Moira would be minding her own business walking about the house, you would see a black paw come out of nowhere, hit at her and then they would be off chasing each other. They were especially rambunctious at night. I would wake up sometimes and hear them running about the house with a bug in their butt as Mom would say. But there were also times when they would sit together and give each other kitty kisses or rather be cleaning each other.  

When I was fourteen we had to move. I don’t think Moira and Shadow took the move too well.  They eventually got used to the house but they were never quite the same. One night Shadow was let out to relieve himself. Him and Moira always came back even after a few days of being outside but this time Shadow didn’t come back. I don’t like to think that something bad happened to him. I like to think that maybe he just didn’t know the neighborhood as well so he couldn’t find his way home. Maybe another kind family took him in. That is what I would like to think anyway. 

During my high school years Moira was always with me. I would talk with her and she would reply if only in a meow. When I would cry or have a bad day, she would curl up next me or give me kitty kisses. When I would do homework she would lay across my text books or my laptop because they were in her way. Whenever I would eat while doing homework I would sometimes see a tabby paw try and sneak something off my plate. A few times she would succeed but it would be a short lived victory as she couldn’t eat that stuff, not any more. 

As I grew older so did Moira. It’s not one of those things you really think about. As I went through hair color changes so did Moira’s fur. The fur in her ears turned whiter as well as the fur around her mouth and nose. Her tabby tiger stripes blended together and were speckled with grey. She like older people would have her good days and her bad days. She didn’t play as much as she used to and she slept a lot more. There were days when she couldn’t hold food down. Days when she would have a roar of a meow and others when it would barely be a squeak of a sound. 

There was one day when she gave us all a scare. She was having a bad day of not keeping her food down. She had thrown up and then just kind of laid down. We were scared for her. We watched her carefully to make sure she was ok. That was the only time we thought we for sure were going to lose her. She was ok the next day but nevertheless we kept a close eye on her. I kept a close eye on her.

As growing older is a sure thing of life so is death. The time had come when we couldn’t do anything more for Moira. We were able to prolong her life when she was almost two years old. You see, the day we had adopted Moira that was to be her last day. She would have been put down the following day. We had been able to save her as she did me growing up. 

The day we said our good byes Mom had said she had heard a few meows outside but she could not tell from where. I was a fit of emotions and tears that I wasn’t paying attention to what she had said. As we left the car to walk into the house I stopped because I too heard a meow. I turned around and burst into tears all over again as I bent down and scooped up the black furry thing that came trotting up to me. Sure no one can replace Moira but I like to think that sending Shadow back to me is her way of letting me know she is never really gone.

Penned on Friday, 23 October 2015