I opened my apartment door and looked into the eyes of a beautiful grey cat. I knew she must belong to a neighbor, but she looked hungry so I fed her. The next morning, she was there again. I fed her. She followed me to my car stall and was there waiting when I returned that evening. I named her P.K. for "Pretty Kitty". I learned she liked to eat like a person and would even sit on a chair and eat off a table. She would bring strays home when she got out who would stay a day, eat, and leave. She loved all strays and all people I introduced her to. I married and I had a daughter and, for a few years, P.K. took a back seat to my child. Then when I divorced P.K moved into my room as my daughter grew into a young girl. P.K. waited every day in my window, looked for my car, climbed at of her place, and waited for me at the door. She would re-arrange the stuffed animals I had and talked to them as if they were her children. Then she started stumbling and acting somewhat fragile. She lost weight. Her doctor said she was finally showing her age, she was 19 in human years. Then one morning, her breathing was too shallow. I knew what I had to do. When we arrived at her doctor's, she was barely there. As he went to administer her final shot, she held out her paw to me, I took it, and looked into the eyes of a beautiful grey cat who I loved with all my heart. We both blinked and I knew she was at the rainbow bridge. She waits to see me look into