I’ve had cats all my life. I adopted my first one when I was two-years old. She slept with me every night, endured my infantile games, and came running to calm me down every time I cried. She showed me what love was.
Once my aunt came over with a huge dog. It was a bloodhound. We were sitting in the kitchen and talking. I raised my hand. The dog took it as a false sign of danger, rose, and started growling while looking at me. Nobody could settle her down. But my cat jumped out in front of me, arched, and started hissing. She was ten times smaller than the dog, but it didn’t stop her. She protected me.
Once, I was home alone. Suddenly, I heard sounds. I couldn’t figure out what they were. Then I examined the apartment and realized that water was dripping from the lamps. The house was flooded. I was terrified. My cat felt it, walked over to me, jumped onto my knees, and curled up. She was always there for me.
When I was a child, I always slept with my cat in the bed. Sometimes, she had other plans, but she waited until I fell asleep and then moved to the bottom of the bed, where she felt much more comfortable. She cared about my feelings.
Whenever I cried, my cat would run to me and start licking my face, wiping away my tears. She put her face into my hands, showing her compassion. She wanted me to be happy.
When my sister had her first born, my cat didn’t enter the room where the baby lived for two weeks. She slept in the kitchen and refused to visit any other rooms. She was scared and confused. But after a while, she walked over to the baby, sniffed him, and became his best friend. It was hard for her, but she accepted the new member of the family and loved him.
We never really took our cat to the village, but once we did. She got lost a few times, but she always came back. Even though she found a lot of new friends there, she chose to stay with us.
She was a house cat. She didn’t catch mice or spend time in the wild. But when we were in the village, she killed a mouse and brought it to our porch. She gave us a gift as soon as she had the chance.
She had her first litter of kittens at age seven, which is an old age for cats. She didn’t even know how to carry them. She was suffering. But she didn’t stop trying. She eventually found a way. She did her best. She never gave up.
They say cats look for privacy when they know they are going to die soon. Some of them hide, and others leave their homes. My cat left us behind, because she knew. She saved us from the pain. She let us remember her as playful, happy, and spirited.
She loved us until her last minute.