Pet Diary : Sneakers' Paw

Each day, since my kitty Sneakers died on June 4th, I walk to the quiet place under the hazelnut trees where my son and husband buried her in a small wooden coffin they built for her. I miss her. She was quiet, easy going, soft, and had these clear, liquid pale blue eyes that spoke of tolerance and patience. She purred before you even started petting her, loud and with a rhythmic, repetitive pattern, that was soothing and entertaining both. She did this one thing with her paw, that was so endearing, it looked like something a puppy would do, and I always wondered where she learned to do this. When she wanted to go outside, or come in, she would put up a paw, in a pleading gesture. I have had four cats in the last 13 years and she is the only one who did that. I think of her today, and that is what comes to mind, the paw up, pleading hesitantly, but persistently, as if she was always surprised I understood what she wanted. I still have to laugh when I think of how much she loved tuna. I would give her and Tigger some each Friday, and she knew it was coming. She would get excited before I even went into the garage, like she was watching my routine that would lead up to me walking into the garage where we keep the canned goods, and she would start hobbling her generous body mass over to the kitchen counter, on her tiny feet with the spindly old legs. God, I loved her open heart. She loved being fussed over, and loved it when I would sit with her in the sun , on the deck, one of her favorite places to hang out. She was constantly cleaning herself, with that paw of hers, trying to get to her big body,and realizing , without getting discouraged, that she was only able to clean a very small part of it. On the few times she saw me cry, she would come sit with me, look at me with her clear blue eyes, and put up her paw, unsure where to put it, just wanting to let me know she was concerned. She loved pillows and blankets, and she is buried with her favorite periwinkle blue old sweater of mine, and her favorite super soft blanket. Sneakers had such an ability to enjoy each moment, she was like a Buddha - cat, big, happy, wise. Her fur was super soft, like the fur of a chinchilla. I know this, because a friend of my son had a chinchilla for a pet, and I remember petting the chinchilla, and how my fingers just sank into its rich, thick soft fur when I petted it. That's how soft Sneakers fur was. She was soft in every way, easy, flexible, agreeable, a wonderful pet companion, a friend to me for 13 years. Maybe in the spirit world, we will some day meet again. I would like nothing better.