Our cat Willow died today. Two hours ago, I was in Chilliwack visiting family, and Irene called me to tell me to come straight back and meet her at the emergency clinic. She had found Willow thrashing on the floor. Irene tells me that Willow was gone by the time she was at the clinic, less than fifteen minutes after she called me. There was nothing to be done.
Willow has been part of our life since 1996. She was about a year old (or so they guessed) when we adopted her from the SPCA. I actually almost didn’t get her: I had picked her out, but another guy took her out of her kennel and was carrying her around. I guess she turned around and bit him while he was stroking her, and he put her straight back in her kennel… from which I immediately adopted her.
That was the day we also got Rommel. Initially, Rommel and Willow were fast friends, but they grew out of that after a year or so. Willow of the luxurious fur, the dramatic tail, and the belly in the air “pet me” pose… I’ll miss that furry tummy. I miss all of her already.
