I haven't seen Tuesday since last Thursday. She never stayed away from me for more than a couple hours let alone this many days. She always comes to me when I call her and since I've all but lost my voice calling her out the back acre, I believe she is dead. Her usual sleeping haunts look sad and empty without her curled up body soaking up sunlight. I figured her end was near, she wasn't going to make it another winter let alone through this summer. She was 14.
I picked her up on a Friday during the Summer of 1998, I had just moved back to California after living a year in Spain. She was a wild kitten, very rebellious, reminding me of where I had been emotionally the year before. The first year or two she made a habit of sitting on my shoulder while I did the dishes, hiding in the laundry hamper and sleeping on the ironing board. She always curled up on my lower legs while I slept and often on my lower back. During cold winter months she would find her way to the bottom of my bed, buried deep under the down comforter. Sometimes I look out towards the playset at dinnertime, she climbs up the wood frame and goes down the slide (not kidding). She was only fond of me but then there were the frequent incidents when she punished me too. Nobody trusted her, she went from sweet kitty to bitch fe-LION in a nanosecond. She has had a long life and survived me having a roommate, Tim moving in, a household move, the birth of three children (punishing me every. single. time.), outlived Maile (our St. Bernard) and Marv (other kitty) and 2 horrid raccoon attacks. Many people who knew her will undoubtedly be unfazed by her demise but as for me, I already miss her softness, her sweet way she only showed me and the significance of our relationship-she is my only touchstone to a younger, single, carefree me.
