Missy was more commonly known as Princess because she ruled over the house was grace and dignity. Even the dogs feared and respected her.
I had the honour of serving this darling for pretty much my entire adult life. She was found in a dumpster in 1999. At 6 weeks old, the vet told my best friend (her original servant) that she wasn't going to make it. To put her down then.Today, July 3, 2020, that first vet has now long been proven wrong. At 21 years old, she's lived a long time for a cat.
When she was still rather young, my best friend and I lived together and she chose me to be her servant for the rest of her life. Most of my adult life, she has been with me. Moving provinces, every short story or novel, she was there. Judging my words, sometimes getting the way... or occasionally just blessing my work with her mere presence.She wasn't your typical cat. She loved belly rubs, she hated other cats, but tolerated the dogs. She came when I called her, meowed at me when I sneezed. She talked to me when I came home from work—often being the first one to greet me at the door.
I know my life will never be the same without her. I hope, wherever she is, she will still bless my writing and judge my editing.
21 years was a long time... And yet, I still wish it could have been longer.
