She was my true love, for so many years.
When she was about a year old, she got out of the house for a night and I couldn’t find her. Late in the evening I heard the howls of love and when she came back in the morning I was sure she was pregnant. She got kinda fat, but not super bloated and then, one day, she had a kitten. One. We kept waiting for more but that is all she had in her. I gave him to my roommates at the time and they named him something I can’t spell. The vet said he had never heard of such a thing. One kitten. She didn’t care much for mothering. Her brother Flea, a big black gentle dumb kitty, did all the nurturing. Zman would climb in the basket to feed and then Flea would climb in and do all the cleaning and loving. Sweet Uncle Flea. He disappeared in ’98 and I still miss him desperately. They were very close, he was the only other cat she could ever tolerate. They would curl up together, yin and yang.
2-D kitty! Soon after this she got an infected uterus and we had to have her entire womb removed, poor thing, I should have had her fixed, but I used to love watching her go into heat. After the surgery she then got fat. A tiny leetle butter ball. But before that we always called her the 2-D cat, famous for her little sticky-out chin, you can really see here. We called her Pete Puma.
She was so perky after the surgery. But has gotten more and more finicky this past week. We haven’t been able to get her to eat the past two days and she’d become a bit incontinent and had more difficulty than usual walking.
My kitty has gone to heaven. We’ve been together my whole life and I’m saying goodbye.
Circa 2002, butterball style, with her fancy blue rhinestone collar that matches her eyes. I’ll keep it forever.