Lilly passed away last night. She was fine during the day and gone during the night.
When we adopted her at 7 months, they told us her heart condition would mean her life could be very short. So each of the 11 years was a gift.
She was so sweet and loving. Her favorite place was with us. When I came home, I could hear her meows as I unlocked the door – telling me I was taking too long to get back to her.
She “helped” with whatever we were doing. Everything was a toy – including what we were working on. What was ours was hers (even my glass of water).
Her antics kept us smiling day after day. She stayed a kitten until the very end. Always playful – chasing anything that would skitter across the floor. And giving me her “play, please” look from under the end table when she knew I was going to bed. It made me laugh every time. And so hard to resist!
She wasn’t really a lap kitty so much as a next-to kitty. Whenever I sat down, she was there. And she would sleep on the bed each night with her paw on my ankle.
She was sure we couldn’t really mean “no” so it didn’t hinder her. But with such cuteness that all we could do was smile.
When she wanted attention, laptops were no obstacle. She had an effective way with knitting, too.
She always seemed to be smiling. And filled the house with such joy.
I talked to her all day long – whatever was going on – and she always listened. I thought about her heart condition almost every day. But still my heart wasn’t ready. It hurts.
Goodbye, Little Girl.