Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Sidewinder. Schlinkhaus. Jingles. Lady. Boney Cat. Skinny McMinny. Girl. We called her everything but Millie. She was sassy and surly; she was Miss Independent. She was my companion for 18 of her 20 or so years on this earth; for all of my adult life. The last few years, she couldn't hear a damn thing, but she made sure we heard her. She left us on Friday, November 28.
She was the alpha cat and knew it. When she rounded the corner downstairs to join the rest of us to watch a movie, we would hum Darth Vader's Imperial March. Murphy Fober knew he had better make room for his superior. Her hisses at him were legendary. And most of our human friends approached her with respect. She wasn't exactly Ms. Congeniality (and neither am I), but she did mellow a bit after losing her hearing. My mother and sister were often told to talk to the paw. But she loved the Athletic Director; and she knew who the real alpha cat was. I could get that cat to do anything and I could carry her around however I liked.
I found her in November of 1990 at the downtown Chicago ASPCA. She was so beautiful and athletic--a great pingpong ball player and leaper. Her little white paws and belly were lovely. She loved to sit on my lap or next to the laptop and observe. She would follow the cursor arrow and paw at it. And then she would sneeze all over the screen. I will miss my girl.