My uncle fished you out of a trash can and called you his itty bitty kitty when you were just a few weeks old. He couldn’t keep you because he was already caring for a large colony of feral cats as well as his own house cats. But he thought of me. He thought of me because I’d just lost my best friend of nearly 13 years. Piwacket was my Halloween cat. She’d come to me as an itty bitty kitty herself many years previous in late October. She was a rough dirty black kitten with so many fleas that I could see them hopping off her. I took her in, bathed her, treated her and got her the veterinary care she needed. She grew up into a sleek, glossy black cat without one speck of white. She had the biggest, goldest eyes I’d ever seen. She was my best friend. My love.
When she died, I think a part of me died, too. I didn’t think I could ever love a cat again. I certainly didn’t plan on getting another one right away. But my uncle had this little kitten who desperately needed a home. I wouldn’t get her for me. I’d get her for my kids. That’s what I told myself, anyway, but from the moment you snuggled into my arms, belly up, and fell asleep that way, you were my girl. You snuggled into my heart just as surely as you snuggled into my arms.
You’re no longer an itty bitty kitty. You’re quite a sturdy young lady cat now, but you still love snuggling belly-up. You are always next to me wherever I am. You trill happily when I come home, and you purr loudly when you are pet. You have a personality 10x the size of your body.
The loss of Piwacket left a huge hole in my heart and life. When you came, you helped heal that hole. And you know what else? My heart has grown in new ways just because of you — you have your own special place there and always will. You know how they say that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure? You were never trash although someone treated you as though you were, but you have certainly become my treasure.
Thank you.
as tears run down my face the letter you wrote is just how I felt when I lost Rosie a red shaded persiah at 19, I can still feel her, !! I am crying my eyes out, thank you ffor such a touching letter!! MEMORIES!!! Olga VanHolland