I'm so upset. This morning, Sylvia succumbed to her kidney and liver diseases. Her absence leaves a huge void, as I could not have adopted a sweeter, more good-natured cat. Actually, she chose me just as much at the shelter in 2008. Upon meeting me, she meowed happily, jumped into my lap, and purred with the strength of 10 cats. To this day, that's still the best example I've ever seen of anyone saying, "Pick me!" Thus began over 11 wonderful years of cat companionship.
Frequently, when I'd attempt to get up from the sofa, Sylvia would try to prevent me from leaving. Even with her eyes closed, she'd stretch a paw out across me as if to say, "You're staying right here!" Similarly, when I'd try to read a book or newspaper, she'd often sit down on me until her paws were on my neck and she was looking right in my eyes. She'd then do at least one nose touch with me to convince me to stay. I didn't mind holding my reading material off to the side because I knew she was happy.
Four days ago, Sylvia walked into my home office and jumped onto my lap. I cradled her in my arms and told her how much she means to me; I told her how lucky we were to have found each other, how we're a great team, and reminisced about memorable things she'd done over the years. As I looked into her eyes, saw the serene expression on her face, and heard that same lion-like purr I'd first heard in 2008, I knew she understood--and agreed with me.
Sylvia and I had a wonderful simpatico bond. That's why I love her, miss her, and will never forget her.
