Sasha was by my side through many ups and downs. When I think of most memories, she is somehow always there in the story.
We first met when she belonged to another girl. Her name was Adalin then. Before that, she survived alone as a kitten on a construction site. Skinny and scrappy, she was too difficult to catch for the workers. Once she was rescued, she lived in a home with another cat while waiting to be adopted. I met her. I loved her. I was devastated I couldn’t take her home. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. A short while later, she became available again because her owner was moving to LA.
February 2013, I found out and immediately left a party to go pick up my surprise kitten. That was the day she became Sasha. Over 13 years, she went missing twice. Both times we were reunited.
We moved a dozen times. I went to university. I got a dog. I had a child. She went from being outdoors to indoors. She gave me birds, mice, comfort, presence, and sneezes. I tripped over her constantly. I was always looking for her, and she was always looking for me whether I wanted her to or not. She let me know when she disliked people.
I couldn’t sit or lie down without her suddenly appearing beside me or climbing on top of me. She was there during the worst times of my life and the best ones. She was aloof with most friends and family, but if someone was in pain, she knew. And she would not leave their side.
Sasha was my familiar. She never left my side.
Until the day she did.
I love you, Sasha.