Cat Down

Roxi Kitty

I lost a family member this week.

She was getting up there in years, and I knew the end was creeping in, but I was no more ready for her passing with that knowledge.

It seemed to happen suddenly and slowly all at the same time.

In preparation for this post, I went through all the pictures I had of her, happy memories mingled with tears as I chose some of my favorite images of her.


She was my talker. She would say hello when she entered the room so you knew she was there, and she would talk as she rubbed her face on your leg. Just idle conversation, "Hello, how are you? How was your day? Would you care to give me an ear rub?" That sort of thing.

She had a few perches that were just hers. The other cats knew better than to try to snuggle into one. On top of the fish tank and Robert's desk chair were two of her favorites. She would curl up and watch the action around her, giving a "Merrrow" when someone tall enough to pet her walked by.

Inevitably, every night she would settle into Robert's chair once the girls were in bed and the house was quiet. She would curl up and tuck her nose down under her tail and purr herself to sleep. When I would walk by on my way to bed, or to the kitchen for a drink, she would lift her head and "merrow" at me.

Last night I walked by that chair, and out of habit I looked expecting to see her lying there, but the chair was empty.

Today I found myself looking to her usual perches expecting to see her on the back of the recliner, drinking from the fish tank, curled up in the office chair, but they were all empty. I waited to hear her jump on the fish tank, or hop the baby gate then announce her presence, but the house was quiet.

I know it will take some time, but until then, I don't think I can stop myself from looking for a furry face that I'll never pet again, or listening for a greeting that I'll never hear again.

Namaste, Roxi, my little yoga kitty.

Yoga Kitty says, "Namaste."

She would sit in the window and chatter at the squirrels running up and down the fire escape.

She was a strange kitty. Even with a fresh bowl of water, she  still preferred the toilet.

When I added a kitten to the family, she took on the mommy role, and even let him nurse (even though she was spayed and had no milk) when he missed his mama.

Later, Dookie would return the favor with some grooming. 

She was still a kitten herself, and enjoyed playing with paper ribbons.

...And wrestling with the kitten. She had no problem letting him know who was boss.

She was fast too. Even after a run in with another cat left her blind in her left eye, she was still faster and more accurate than both of the boys combined.
Though she sometimes misjudged distances when jumping onto the counter.

She was a chest kitty.

She had to be close...

...So  she could go for your earlobe. She liked to nibble on them, and loved when a new person came to visit because she could usually get to their lobe before we could warn them. And no, big earrings didn't stop her. They didn't even slow her down. 

Her fur was so soft, some cats have really soft fur on their head or behind their ears, but Roxi was soft like that all over. She loved to be pet, and when you got to her tail, she would put her butt up in the air and curl her tail up like a question mark. You could straighten it as you pet her, but as soon as you let go, it would spring right back.

She was a cuddler, and would tolerate so much loving, no matter how rough the girls were, with little more than a squeak when the girls would squeeze a little too hard. 

When we moved to our new house, they all had a great time exploring the new space, finding hiding places, and finally settling on the perch by the big front window where they jump at all the birds that fly into it, hoping one day to catch one of them. 

Roxi Kitty
October 31, 1996-May 17, 2012

Sleep well Roxi girl. You'll never have to leave that warm comfy basket again.