For those of you that have been reading my previous hubs you will now know that I have l quit my job, moved back home, found a part time job, and decided what I want to do with the rest of my life, all in the course of two weeks. With that out of the way I feel it is time to try my hand at writing a column not about any of that. Enjoy.

No really, if she were a human she would most likely be on her death bed. This amazes me really, for she has outlived her three kittens, and is older than any of us can count now. I am twenty-five now, I've had her longer than I can remember. I'd say she's been in my life at least fifteen years, maybe more. And she has been an amazingly great cat.

In order to understand the end of my cat's life you must first understand the beginning. I was in middle school at the time and attending a summer CCD camp. There was a cat that had been wandering around for a while and no one seemed to know where she belonged. Somehow it came to be that my family and I took the cat in. This cat lived with us for a little while and we eventually found out it belonged to the people that lived next to our church. The cat was apparently sick and old and they had simply thought she had gone away to die. We of course gave them back their cat. However, I believe this cat opened the door for my now dying cat.

A friend of my dad's knew a guy who had found a cat at his work. He brought her home with him but she didn't much get along with his dog so she stayed outside. He felt bad for the cat though and wanted to find it a home. My dad's friend, perhaps knowing about the previous cat we had, suggested my family to this friend of his. I distinctly remember the night he came over and brought my cat, Tigger to our house. We brought her into the living room and you could tell she wasn't much used to people. Because she is a grey tiger cat my mother suggested we name her Tigger. I don't remember her being a tiny little thing, but nor do I think she was the size she is now, though perhaps the years have made that fuzzy. So, telling her age now, added to the fact that we don't exactly remember when we got her, makes it hard.

No one much liked Midnight, no one but me. He was skitsh around everyone, except me. I don't blame anyone for disliking him, after all, he continued to spray all around the house. Though I somewhat blame my parents for not taking care of that. My father especially disliked Midnight, I'm fairly certain, the feeling was mutual. Midnight and I though would curl up on the couch together, me on my back or side, and he curled in my arm. My Junior year of college I was home on Thanksgiving break and getting ready to head back to school. I could tell something was wrong with Midnight, after all, he lay on the kitchen floor, barely moving, not even flinching as my father walked over him. I returned for Christmas break and Midnight was nowhere to be found. I passed off his absence to the fact that he often hid, wouldn't you if no one liked you. He continued to be absent from my house and I soon decided he was now hiding from my sister's dog who had just arrived, after all he and Teaka had never gotten along. Somehow I stayed under this vail, thinking everything was all right, that is until one fateful day. My mother, and grandparents were sitting in the car, waiting for the bus that would take us gambling. "So, I heard your cat died." My Nana commented, apparently she had not been informed that I had not been informed. I began sobbing uncontrollably. I hated my mother in that instant, how could she hold something so important back from me. Wasn't I after all the one that had loved him unconditionally, didn't I deserve to hear that news when it happened? To this day I have not confronted my parents about the death. I have come to realize that they do not communicate things of importance and have begun to question and wonder what else I am not told. There was a time that I was afraid grandparents would die and I would not be informed. Even as I type this I cannot hold the tears back for the cat that I lost, and the injustice I feel.

Tigger had three kittens, Coleman, Midnight, and Everest. A customer of my dad's had lost a cat right before we got Tigger and so had given us some cat food. Because of her kindness we gave her Everest. Though Everest didn't last long, for reasons unknown he began spraying and peeing on everything in her house and she eventually had him put down. We kept Coleman and Midnight, for a while. My parents soon realized that one, or perhaps both of them were spraying everything in sight, so in an effort to save our house, my mother tried to make them outdoor cats. She would sit them on the stoop, hoping they would roam outside, this never worked. Coleman ran away soon after, and Midnight was skitsh of the outside ever after.

If not for my close proximity to my parents I am afraid I never would have learned that Tigger was sick, to this day my parents have never taken her to the vet to get her any kind of help. In fact I believe the only time she has ever been to the vet was to be fixed just after she had the kittens. Tigger now roams our house aimlessly, often walking circles, sometimes around the coffee table, sometimes around our feet. She often gets stepped on and kicked in the kitchen. There are days when she just lays there, barely breathing it seems. I can see her, as an old lady, just wanting company, just wanting to enjoy her last days her on earth. She used to love the outdoors, during the summer she spent more time out then in. She would even venture outside in the winter. It must kill her that she can't romp outdoors like she used to. My parents get aggravated with her, annoyed, she gets under their feet in the kitchen, and has trouble getting on and off the couch. I try to be sympathetic, I try to pay attention to her as much as possible, try not to get annoyed with her. But it can be hard. My father a few weeks ago dug a hole for her out back in our pasture, sure she wouldn't make the night, but here she is, still kicking. I am at least glad that I can be home to spend the last of her days with her, I will miss her dearly.