R.I.P.

Every once in a while you are lucky enough to have one of those pets that you form a strong attachment to, an amazing bond with. I was blessed to have Felony the Feline Felon in my life for 16 years. This morning I had to make the heartbreaking decision to put her to sleep.

I was just 2 months into my 18th year of life when I answered an ad for free kittens. I thought I knew it all back then and thought I could do it all. I had been living out in Cheyenne for 4 months and things weren't going so well. I knew that that the time was approaching for me to pack up and head back home, but I was stubborn and wouldn't admit it.

I felt alone.

I got in the 1977 Chevette that we had bought from the Gypsy's car lot down the road (no, honestly, they claimed to be decedents of real gypsies), and drove across town to a well-to-do, one-story brick house. The lady of the house showed me to the laundry room and left me to pick out my kitten. I must have sat on that floor for an hour playing with them all, determining each one's personality.

There was one kitten in particular that caught my attention. She was a stocky little tortoise shell/calico mix and she had an attitude. She repeatedly attacked me, from the side, from the back, even head on as I was playing with her brothers and sisters. It was when she finally gave up on the mini-ambushes and calmly walked up to bite my hand that I knew I had to have her.

She had picked me.

And she was just as stubborn as I was.

I proudly drove her home to the little trailer that my boyfriend and I shared with his cousin and his wife. Little did I know that my new little furry joy would be the straw that broke the camels back. Apparently my boyfriend and his cousin had been arguing throughout the day. I walked in expecting everyone to coo over my feline find. It quickly became obvious that we had over stayed our welcome.

The next morning we loaded up all our worldly possessions, his puppy (a 10 week old lab mix), and my kitten into that little Chevette and hit the road for Iowa. Along the way we sang to Janice Joplin and AC/DC and tried to come up with a name to befit the interesting personality this cat had.

We were about halfway across Nebraska when she snuck up under the passenger seat to snitch Doritos out of the bag between my feet.

"Get out of there you feline felon!" I shrieked as she dodged my swipes and darted into the haphazard towers of clothes and Cd's filling the little hatchback.

And so Felony was named. My little feline felon.

Before the end of the trip she had swiped a cheeseburger from me as well.

Felony was a constant in my life from that day forward. She was there weaving between my feet when I stared in astonishment at the positive pregnancy test in my hands. I locked her in the bathroom with me as the boyfriend went on a rampage when he found out. She survived the 10 seconds of microwave radiation that he gave her in an attempt to keep us there.

We bounced around for several months that summer from friend to friend, who ever would let us stay, but never long enough to wear out our welcome. Felony always cuddled up on my chest at night to keep me safe.

As winter approached my mom convinced my dad to ask me to stay with them until the baby was born. Felony quickly became part of the family. Christmas morning there was an envelope for her under the tree. My mom had used scrapbook paper to make gift certificates entitling Felony to a free pedicure and hormone treatment. The next week she visited the "spa". My parents had paid for her to be declawed, spayed, and her first round of shots.

Two weeks after that I delivered a healthy little girl. I often worried about Felony's insistence to check up on Sis. She would often jump up on to the dresser next to the crib and peer over the edge at the sleeping baby.

I didn't need to worry. Felony soon earned the nickname Mama Kitty and treated Sis as if she were her own. Mama Kitty couldn't stand it when the baby cried and would come looking for me. She would meow at me and insist that I tend to the crying infant right then (even if I was trying to get her to go to sleep).

Shortly before we got married, Ex and I moved into a duplex at the edge of town. There was a cornfield across the street that Felony liked to romp through every day. And everyday she brought me a ground squirrel. It was her way of showing me that she could provide for the family too. While I didn't really appreciate having to remove a dead chipmunk from our front stoop every morning (which I usually made Ex handle) I still smile when I think of her "gifts".

There are so many more stories I could share about my sweet Felony like her bouts of jealousy when Ex and I cuddled, or her temper tantrums of clearing off the living room table if she didn't get the attention she wanted. I could also write about her yearly Christmas present of a can of tuna that she would paw at under the tree.

The most touching of all stories about Felony occurred this morning though.

Felony passed on gracefully this morning. We took her to the vet knowing what would happen. She had become paralyzed from the waist down overnight due to a tumor on her spine and a dislodged blood clot.

She was more alert and aware than I had seen her in months. As she sat in the box that I had fixed for her she looked at each one of us and meowed until we came over to say goodbye. She nudged our hands with her head, which was her way of giving hugs.

In the vet's office she decided not to watch them prepare her, which would have been her natural way; but instead laid her head against my hip and kept it there as they gave her the shot and it took effect.

My sweet kitten passed on cuddled up to me giving me the love and comfort that she has always handed me unconditionally over her 16 years.

Felony Mae
April 10, 1993-November 5, 2009