I had to say good bye to a friend this weekend. A friend of fifteen years. My cat Tinkerbell, aka Num Nums. I’d had her since 2004, and from house to house, job to job, she’d been my constant.
She was an asshole. Everyone thought so, because she was. She was moody, more so than a typical cat. I refused to declaw her, because after she was spayed she hid under the bed for three days and wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t bring myself to cause any pain to come to her, so I left her claws in. I got scratched because of it, but not as much as some of my friends and family did.
Fifteen years she meowed at me, letting me know she needed food, or water, or that she had left me a hairball. She constantly went places she shouldn’t go, and I’d have to track her down – hoping I didn’t get fresh scratches.
When I brought the dog home to meet her, she could care less. She had her space, and she’d tolerate him well enough. But she batted him in the nose more than once.
She passed peacefully in her sleep on Friday, and it’s just not the same without her.