My darling Zoey was one of the best friends I'll ever have. She was a family cat, adopted with her new brother Sid shortly after our cat/buddy Niki (older than me) came to Rainbow Bridge. My mom was holding her when we first met, and I thought she was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. She had short, dark black fur and giant green eyes. She was tiny. She was timid and shy, unwary of her new surroundings after having moved from a house with some large dogs that liked to play with her a bit aggressively.|
Zoey stayed shy & antisocial unless she knew you. And it took a while for her to get comfortable. Petting her and playing with her was a privilege she bestowed upon you, as was carrying her inside from the patio when she was being stubborn and refusing to come inside the house. It was her choice, not yours. And I'm forever touched that she chose me.
For a while, I work late and when I would get home with my dinner in a to-go box, there would be no one else awake. We'd keep a plate of cat food on our kitchen counter so our babies could snack overnight and when I'd sit to eat my dinner, Zoey would always join me. She'd munch and slurp loudly in between coming over for pets and she made sure I didn't have to eat alone. Then we'd watch some TV together while she rolled back and forth on the carpet. Or I'd let her into my room (I usually kept the door closed) while I surfed the web. Some nights she played with her favorite toy, Ducky. Some nights she'd get catnip. She was always game to hang out late at night.
Our baby Zoey was often cutest when at her most inscrutable. Occasionally we'd hear her walking around the dining room having a conversation with herself. She loved to roll around on warm sunny spots, but she'd also do that pretty much anywhere. Sometime she'd do it while having a conversation with herself. She was the first to discover new hiding spots, and I'm certain there're some we never found.
Zoey was also the toughest animal I've ever known. Though she was small and flight was her first instinct, when she needed to defend her territory she turned into a little furball of rage. If she smelled a stray cat or another animal through the patio screen, she'd rip through the house screeching. She had a vicious method of impaling lizards with one claw. And I still have a small scar where she swatted me after I held her a bit too tight. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I loved holding Zoey. We all did (when she'd let us). She'd be tense at first, but then she'd nuzzle into an arm, usually to provide herself with an easy escape route if necessary. And then she'd chill. She was a tough kitty, but she knew where she was loved.
And we held her until she passed. It was the toughest thing I ever had to do. But as I held her then, I'll hold and love my friend for the rest of my life.
I love you Zoey and I'll miss you forever.