When I was in 3rd grade I got an adorable gray cat from my friend Rebecca's house, and named her Shannon. That cat, more often called "Miss Kitty" or "Pretty girl" than Shannon, kept me company when I was lonely, brought me brand new kittens to cuddle with when I slept on the trampoline, and showed her ultimate love to her Mama when she plopped a dead mouse onto my sleeping bag and looked at me proudly. She used to sneak her way into my sleeping bag or under the blankets in the middle of the night and I'd wake up with her snuggled against my belly. She didn't let many people love on her, but whenever I was home, she'd come up and love on me, without exception.
She was super protective of me too. There was once that I took a walk up the canyon and then up around the Rodeo arena, and she followed me the whole way. As she got older, my pretty girl got a bit grouchy and chased off little kittens that my Mom brought home as "replacements", cause she had absolutely no intention of being replaced. She started to have a struggle when she jumped up onto the railing of the porch to get her dinner, and spent more and more time curled up in the shed than begging for food on the porch. But she still loved on me anytime I came home.
I called mom yesterday and we talked about if it was time to take Shannon to the vet so he could put her to sleep, and she said she didn't think it was quite time yet. Well, my cat has always been a 1 upper and I guess that she decided she didn't want to go to the vet, she wanted to have her last few moments in the place that she loved most, and mom and dad found her this morning and Dad lovingly buried her out by our great old dog, Thor. I'm sure she'll be happy out there. Whenever I get home again, I'll bring some flowers and let my pretty cat know how sorry I am that I couldn't be there to love her as she passed on.
My cat's the big one. The little one was a "replacement", and the spitting image of Shannon when she was a baby.
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