I write these words with a very heavy heart. Last Friday I lost my dear little kitty, Chloe. She was about 7 1/2 years old and my constant, deeply affectionate companion. She was a small cat, and she had very tiny paws. Her fur was very thick and tortoiseshell in color. Parts of her were butterscotch, and parts of her were black. My favorite parts were the bottoms of her little paws, which were a lovely pink and butterscotch mixture, and which I loved to stroke. She was a little on the chubby side, because I had a tendency to overfeed her. She did love her food!
She always snuggled with me when I took a nap, and she would lie on the bed right beside my right hand. She followed me around the house like a puppy, and when I sat at the computer she would climb up behind me in the chair and lie down, pushing with her little paws against my back. She would jump onto the back of whatever chair I might be sitting in.
She loved a good belly scritch, and she would give me a little “click” with her mouth when I talked to her. She adored her mousie toys, throwing them up in the air and chasing them around. She would sit for hours and watch the birds outside, “chittering” all the while. Her noblest moments came when another cat would foolishly wander into our yard. Then Chloe, protector of our home and family, would fluff up her fur, work herself into a frenzy, scream at the interloper, and frighten everything within hearing distance!
I know someday I’ll see her again when I reach the Rainbow Bridge. Goodbye, my Chloe, till we meet again! You’ll always be right here in my heart.