by J.N. Petzak
(Glendale, CA, usa)

Twelve years, three months is all the time given us to share together; far too little time, but what a time it was!

How well I remember looking into the wild, overgrown side yard grass of our old house and seeing the latest family of semi-feral kittens born to a mother who evaded my well-intentioned attempts to get her spayed and free her from a life of endless pregnancy; among these tiny ones, one stood out.

All white except for brown ears, tail, and a smugdy mask, this kitten was sniffly and runny-eyed right from the start, as too many kittens born outdoors are. I knew she needed medical attention, so I walked out and scooped her up one early-summer morning, installing her in our second bathroom until we could get her in for her checkup and kitten innoculations.

Time passed, and she grew into a gorgeous snowshoe girl, lithe, leggy, and charming. Her quiet sense of humor and secretive playfulness never failed to surprise and charm us; and she quickly became the beloved baby of our multicat family, mothered by Rani and later by Kinoko.

We were able to enjoy the clean air, forever views and ever-changing beauty of the Mojave Desert for three glorious years; Seesh, as we called her, loved being out at all times of the day and night in the "catio" we built for our clowder, complete with cactus-shaped multi-level perch and lounging railings, secure but very outdoorsy.

She and the rest of us delighted in watching the rabbits, quail, hummingbirds, and other animals whose land we shared, and in experiencing four distinct seasons free of the smog, overpopulation, and noise pollution of the city.

All good things, they say, come to an end. Divorce and forced relocation to another city, and fast forward three years, during much of which Seesh was happy and thriving.

Overnight, it seemed, she turned from brown to almost white again; she lost her round appearance and interest in playing. Being so traumatized myself from the events of the past years, I did not want to see that my beloved little girl was failing.

Yesterday morning, on 17 September, Sishya ascended, free once again and reunited I am certain, with so many of our loved ones whose companionship she enjoyed here on earth.

My heart is torn and my brain is numb -- for myself and our other loved ones, there is the grief of parting and loss, but for her, there is great relief and joy -- no more pain! no more suffering! Fly free, Sishya beloved!