Two in one month

Just 3 weeks separated the deaths of Max & Lucy. It's been a rather difficult (and expensive) month. I wanted to post some pics of my little girl because she was so beautiful (and of course I loved her). But first--a little narrative of how I became her mother.

My wonderful grandmother always loved siamese cats; I'll never know why. This breed is M-E-A-N!. Lucy was no different. Nevertheless, Granny adopted her as a kitten and watched over her for the next 4+ years. My family members and I, taking care of Granny for those years, were quite aware of Lucy's disposition in life. We were regularly maimed from her quick reel-in with the clawless front paws only to be bitten as to remind us of our lowly positions in life. In the cat's defense, we knew it would happen; she was just too pretty and wanted the attention. It was a trap. Just like the trap my family set for me when my grandmother died. I forget the exact words, but I was led to believe it was my grandmother's dying wish that I, beloved granddaughter, should forever love, cherish, and nurture little Lucy. I reluctantly accepted this burden to bear. In fact, I cried when I brought her home. How could I bring home another creature that Max couldn't play with? Would Max resent me for it?

I was tricked. After a few days, I figured out Granny didn't care who took the cat--no one else wanted her. By this time, I already had my husband going with the original story. He learned the truth about a year later. By then Da Goose was part of the family. (You know how you have 9 different names for your pet? Lucy, Little Girl, Da Goose, Juice, Lucifer, Juicifer, B****) We became accustomed to her routines and idiosyncrasies--and we loved them and her. I miss her every day.

Adventures outside were always exciting:

See a pattern in the next shots? She liked to squeeze into tight places.

Her final hours in a favorite spot as evidenced by the nose prints on the window.