In Loving Memory of Kitty
2009 – 2024
How do you fit 15 years of love, sass, and companionship into words without crying?
The truth is—you can’t. Because Kitty wasn’t just a cat. She was my shadow, my tiny supervisor, my fierce little soulmate wrapped in fur.
She was there for every chapter—watching me grow, comforting me through heartache, and judging absolutely everything I did. From her perch at the top of the stairs, she sized up every guest who dared enter, deciding with one squint whether they were worthy of her presence.
In my sewing room, Kitty took her job very seriously. She’d sit beside my machine with a look that said, “Is that really your best work?”—ever the critic, but always near. The ironing wool mat? Far superior to any fancy cat bed. And wherever I went, she followed. Always close, always watching.
She wasn’t a cuddly cat—and that was part of her charm. But sometimes, I just couldn’t help myself. I’d scoop her up and cuddle the absolute crap out of her. She’d tolerate it… to a point. Then came the tail flick. A swift, silent warning: “Put me down or face your doom.” I usually listened. Usually.
But when she wanted cuddles—when she chose to sit close, to lean in and be with you—it was always on her terms, never yours. And in those moments, it felt like being chosen by royalty.
Her 6 a.m. siren-song wake-up calls demanding breakfast, her bravery in staring down a 100lb dog who quickly learned she was in charge, and our long, one-sided “conversations” in Kitty-speak—I miss all of it. Even if I butchered the language, she always understood me.
Kitty passed away in my arms, peacefully, in the comfort of our home. I’m so grateful I got to brush her one last time, feel her warmth, and whisper how deeply she was loved.
Thank you to Resting Paws for your compassion and grace. There was no rushing—only respect, gentleness, and kindness. You are angels doing the work that hearts need most.
Kitty, thank you for 15 unforgettable years of love, judgment, laughter, and loyalty.
You were a force. You were home.
And I still expect to see you—at the stairs, on the mat, giving me that look.
Sleep well, sweet girl. You’ll always be with me.