Watchcat protocol CCCXCIX

Understandably, a watchcat not only guards her assigned sector but her property, as well.  In April 2012, Watchcat Sylvia stayed close to her Senses toy:

Watchcat protocol CCCXCVIII

A skilled watchcat can wash her paws while watching for intruders peripherally.  Watchcat Sylvia demonstrated her mastery of this in April 2011:

Watchcat protocol CCCXCVII

Want to find out what's happening in your community?  Head to the nearest watchcat-patrolled newsstand:

November 2010: Watchcat Sylvia presides over issues of various newspapers and magazines.

Watchcat protocol CCCXCVI

Do you keep a sharp eye on your surroundings?  Do you relish the thought of keeping hooligans out of an assigned sector?  Does the thought of keeping an area secure make you lick your chops?  If so, a watchcat career might be your calling.

December 2012:  Watchcat Sylvia shows her zeal for security work.

Watchcat protocol CCCXCV

You know a watchcat means business when she opens her eyes this wide--and has a backup watchfox helping to guard her assigned sector.  Watchcat Sylvia and her watchfox kept their assigned sector secure in 2008:

I know life doesn't work this way, but...

As I continue to grapple with yesterday's awful turn of events, I keep thinking about something I would tell my cat, Sylvia, when she wasn't eating enough. 

"Sylvia, please eat," I'd say.  "I need you to be immortal.  In fact, I want everyone in my family, humans and cats alike, to live forever."

I know life doesn't work that way, but that didn't stop me from telling Sylvia.  It won't stop me from wishing that my next cat has eternal life, either.

In memory of Sylvia the cat

October 2012: Sylvia curled up with me on the sofa. 

Fall 2009: Contemplative Sylvia in her cat bed.

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.