loralees-freshed-over-noodles

Eighteen years ago I stepped out onto my porch. There to greet me was this lovely, fluffy, little, black, long-haired feline with a white stripe running right down the center of her nose. "You look like a skunk," I said to her. That day was the start of a wonderful friendship with my new cat Skunky.

When I met her I already had my buddies Stikes, Sharky, Murphy, Binkerbean, and Crisco. Shortly after Skunky joined the crew Binkerbean succumbed to Feline FIV. We then added Batly and Kitten to the mix. Yes. There were seven of these fluffly, little, whisker-laden creatures. Throughout the years I have said tearful and heart felt goodbyes to Stikes, Sharky, Murphy, Crisco, Kitten and Batly. But joining the crew, throughout the years, have been Winky, Businessman, Eena and Meatloaf. I know, I know. It's not apparent my sheer love of the feline beast, huh? Actually, I just love animals, but I've just sort of been adopted by cats as time has passed. Or you can just call me what my vet calls me . . . "a softie." (He always tells me that in his next life he wants to come back as one of my cats. That's a huge compliment from a veterinarian, huh?)

Last year I had to say good bye to Eena. My big, fluffy, mild-mannered, long-haired, orange tabby cat. You would think that because I've been through the whole process of taking each and every one of them to the vet, petting them tearfully as they get the injection, scratching behind their little ears while telling them, "I love you. You've been a good friend and companion. I'll miss you. Good bye, my dear, sweet little friend," that I would have developed some sort of thick skin, wouldn't you? But. No. I. Have. Not.

Every single one of them has touched my heart in a unique way. I've loved every single one of them and it's hard every damned time. Today was not easy. Today I had to say good bye to my dear, fluffy, old, little Skunky girl and I sobbed and have been sobbing like the biggest baby ever known to creation. She was feisty, adorable, affectionate. She was a talker and she loved to swat at the other cats when they got in her way. If you were petting her and you took your hand away she would reach out with her paw to grab your hand as if to say, "Hey. You're not done with this petting thing." She was a character and a half. We had some really tough times, like when she got so sick that I had to tube feed her for a month, but mostly we just had sweet, wonderful, snuggly times.

I feel blessed and honored that eighteen years ago she chose to adopt me. It's been a pleasure to live in her home. It's filled my heart to help her in tough times and to laugh at her crazy little kitty cat antics. She made my journey here on Earth a more enjoyable one. I'm going to miss my little Skunky girl.