Grace

Nineteen years ago, I fed a feral cat I named Missy, who one day brought her litter to my porch to be fed along with her.  They were so cute, those little bundles of fur!  The black kitten I named Blackie, having no idea if it was a girl or a boy.

After a couple of days of this, I opened my front door and went back inside.  Blackie the kitten followed me in and made herself at home.  Thinking it was a fluke, I put her back outside.  Next night, she followed me in again, this time crawling up on the couch where I lay and settling herself on my chest.

I had just seen my cat Maalea (also black) to the rainbow bridge with cancer, so I guess I saw this as a sign that "Blackie" was meant to be mine.  Now that I could handle the kitten, I found that Blackie was a girl, and thought about a new name for her.

"Grace", I thought.  As in Grace of God.  I looked upon her as a gift, brought to me while I was still grieving Maalea.

I made an appointment at the local vet to have Grace fixed, and kept her inside from then on.

A last minute trip to El Salvador meant a cancelled vet appointment.  Fast forward to May 1, 1998.

Grace was laying in my arms sleeping in bed with me, when she woke me with what almost felt like seizures.  I thought she was having a nightmare, and petted her, trying to soothe her back to sleep.  Finally I got up and turned the lights on, thinking that she was ill.  She wasn't ill.  She had just given birth to the first of 4 kittens.  My little kitten was a Mama!

Anyway, I've told that story before - all of her kittens passed on before she did, but my house was full of life for many years.  My little gift from God herself never got above 5 pounds, looking like a kitten most of her life.  Her kids towered above her, but she ruled the roost!

Grace was a hugger.  At sunrise every morning she'd stand up from where she had been sleeping (usually on my pillow), stretch, and then get my attention by walking back and forth across my face.  When I would crack open an eyelid and look at her, she'd look right back and be beside herself with joy to see me.  Yes, joy.  You've seen a dog so excited it runs in circles?  Well, Grace was similar, but of course expressed herself with much more refinement than a dog.

It was hard to wake up cranky when she was so happy to see me every morning.  Our morning ritual was for me to feed her, put the coffee on, and go to my computer to start catching up on the day.  It never mattered how much she had eaten of her breakfast, she would follow me and climb into my lap for her hugs and kisses, and only then go back and finish her breakfast.  I called it her adorment time.

Over the years, she's had her share of medical problems...getting old sucks!  But she never lost her joy at seeing me, and always wanted her adorment time.  The petting she loved; the kisses she tolerated.  I told her that she couldn't leave me until I had given her a billion trillion kisses.

This morning I gave her her billionth trillionth and one kiss.  Her poor little body just shut down and she died just before sunrise at the Vet's clinic.  The Vet Tech brought her body to me for one last adorment and one last kiss.  I love you Gracie Girl.  Until we meet again.