She was unlike the other cats in my neighbourhood and was as different from her sister as day from night. Apart from their white fur, they had nothing in common.Not a soul taught her to be elegant, but, she was a born lady, exquisitely beautiful and elegant to a fault.
She would eat her fill of the food and then, turn away leaving the rest behind. No amount of coaxing would make her eat more than her fill. A tiny thing, she couldn’t even eat an entire fish in one go. Her favourite food items were batter (a mix of all purpose flour, egg and butter), ice cream and all crunchy food. The first photo is of her waiting for a fifth helping of batter while I was making Chocolate Orange Challah.
Following the death of her sister, she became the apple of our eye. Her sister’s death was the third death we had to suffer this year and so we all got into living the moment. No time was spent taking photos, but, I wish we had those moments captured to look back on.
She went missing two weeks ago (she was out with her boyfriend). I was hoping against all circumstances that she would come back. She wouldn’t have been able to survive more than a day with those stray dogs out on the street. She was the one who consoled us after her sister’s death, and now, she’s gone too.
Hope can be a mean bitch to you sometimes. Every time a stray cat mews, I sprint out towards the cat hoping that it’s her. Sometimes, I hear my mom calling out to her as she passes from one room to another hoping that after all, she had been lying under one of the chairs.
Memories keep you going when you deal with so many deaths in so short a span. That, and the realisation that there was nothing that you could do to prevent it from happening. She’ll always be my li’le lady, falling asleep on my body, her head propped upon her hands, shadowing me wherever I went and her solemn form sitting on the doorway watching the rain is a sight that I will forever remember.