A Kitty Story

She asked me to go to the animal shelter to help pick a cat for her new apartment. Apparently, the new apartment came with mice, in addition to free electric and a new refrigerator.

We drove out to Northshore Animal League, my three young children, my friend Rita, and I. How exciting! This was an excellent opportunity to help my children develop a love of animals and a spirit of compassion. Besides, Rita needed our collective wisdom in choosing the perfect de-mouser cat.

Having no intentions of owning a purrfectly pretty feline species, I found myself drawn to a precious little kitten. My children oohed and ahhed, venturing about the animal shelter. Rita was finding it hard to make a decision. I found myself smitten by a yellow-eyed small white kitten... who had weird black spots and a tiny pink nose.

As we headed back to my car, Rita had a big male gray cat in tow. My three youngsters and I had just adopted the petite golden-eyed kitty! What was I thinking? We had no litter box or litter, either! Oh, well- impulsivity had me by the.... shoulders.

What will we name her? Darlene? Princess? Eve? Hmmm... Ginger? Jeannie? I decided on Gina! So it was decided.

Gina knew where her litter box was! Fascinating! She found our apartment quite cozy and settled into our routine. Many long nights of meowing ensued; Gina was in heat. She got out the front door and ran up into a tree. Silly kitty, had no clue how to get down! Then there was the time the patio door slammed on her tail as she attempted a great outdoor adventure. Stripped of fur, her tail was frightening to my children and me- Gina didn't like it either.

Stumpy she was after the vet had to surgically repair her broken tail. He also declawed and sterilized Gina. No claws on my water bed! And no unwed kitties bringing unwanted babies into our apartment.

Many beautiful memories and years of loyal friendship, Gina was a staple in our home. She watched as the children grew up,  moved out, and had children of their own. We watched as her black spots became gray. She enjoyed her Princess status while we dwelled in the city then adapted to country living when we moved.

Yesterday, we buried Gina in a shallow grave in a sunny spot in the rear of our  property. She loved it out in the gardens chasing butterflies and climbing trees.  She was eighteen.

Thank you, Gina, for giving us the best years of your life. When we rescued you that day so long ago, you rescued me. I could not have asked for a more loving friend.