Lucy came to live with me in September of 2001. My friend Jennifer’s dog had found three kittens in their field, and little Lucy was among them. It was love at first sight. She was so teeny tiny and loving and sweet that I begged, absolutely BEGGED Chris for us to take her home. We already had two cats, didn’t really need another, but this little kitty clung to me and squeaked like her life depended on it.
Pictures don’t do her justice. She was a breathtakingly beautiful cat with the most adorable squeaky meow. The first night with her, I gave her a bath and then cuddled with her for hours in a little bathroom. I was determined to have a lap cat, and Lucy was more than OK with that. She purred and purred and ever since then, she’d made her home on my lap. Sometimes when it wasn’t the most convenient.
Lucy was super skittish. Most people probably really didn’t believe we had a third cat, because she was NEVER around when there was company. She’d disappear, only coming out when the company was gone and just the family was around.
She was naughty, getting into everything. Christmas was always… interesting with her around. She had a fascination with all sorts of Christmas trees.
She loved orange processed cheese products, so Doritos and Cheetos were not safe around her. She’d come and lick all the “cheese” off. Other than that, she had no interest in people food. She liked to nibble on my hair (usually when I was sleeping) and she’d fidget and fidget and fidget until I blew my breath in her face. I guess she needed to know what I’d eaten that day before she could rest easy.
Unfortunately, Little Lucy had to be put down on May 30, 2008 due to severe illness that set in very shortly after I moved to Chicago. She spent most of her time in or under the bed, too weak to even make it to her food and water most days. She never did adjust to living in Chicago and her health deteriorated quickly. I think about her every single day and miss her terribly, and I never stop wondering if there was anything I could have done to save her.