Last month, we had to say goodbye to our sweet 18-year-old kitty, Emma. She leaves her indelible footprints all over our hearts. We will miss her funny quirks and joyful soul. I will miss her morning ritual of following me into the bathroom each day. She used to dart ahead of me to make sure I couldn’t shut the door on her, though in these last few months, I waited for her to catch up with me. She greeted each day with loud purrs and her trademark rusty-hinge meow.
Emma was a huntress—pity the miller moth, spider, or fly that ventured into our house. She didn’t give up until she caught it. She was a buddy to our other pets, always friendly and sweet. She was the last in our group of five wonderful fur kids that were young together and grew old together: Champ, Frankie, Ricco, Murphy, and now Emma. I hope they’re all together beyond the rainbow bridge.
Lately, she and Hazel had been fond of napping together on our bed. Years ago, our veterinarian, Dr. Barnes, told us she was special because most orange kitties are boys—only about 20% are girls. She was very special, a living ray of sunshine. Farewell, sweet Emma, till we meet again.