Katie

Our beautiful little Bird, who had the heart of a lioness and was a fighter to the end, lost a brief but fierce battle with cancer on October 21, 2002. This is the last picture I took of her, and though by no means the best, it proves that her beauty and her spirit triumphed over everything.

I cannot imagine how long my grief will take her place as my constant companion. I will miss her always. This is her story.

I started calling her "Bird" or "Katie Bird" not only because her colouring and delicate appearance put me in mind of a little brown wren, but also because her Maine Coon chirps and trills resemble nothing so much as the conversations of finches and larks.

She chose me, as I recalled on the opening page, at the tender age of ten weeks in the living room of the breeder in Lake Sammamish, Washington, not far from Seattle. She was to be my birthday present in 1987. Maribeth had bonded so closely to my then-husband that I felt rather deserted, as if I had no furry companion of my own. Michael determined to remedy that with the acquisition of a new kitten for me.

When Kate was old enough, and because her breeder wanted to see if Kate would produce a girl who looked like her favourite cat (she did!), we took her back to the cattery to breed her with a gorgeous stud named Jasper. After demanding (and getting!) Jasper's heated outdoor house from him for herself (I was so proud!), our Kate produced--- much to our vet's and the breeder's shock (because Kate was so tiny), six healthy kittens!

The "runt" of tiny Kate's litter was a miniscule girl we called "Mousie," who had to be fed supplements with an eyedropper around the clock and weighed on the kitchen scale every morning to make sure she was still thriving. Eventually, she caught up, was adopted by a doctor's family, and was whisked away at 10 weeks in a celadon-coloured Mercedes. Kate and I were SO proud--- though Michael and I were teary-eyed when she left. She was a tough little girl, a real fighter, and we had grown very fond of her.

We were given pick of Kate's litter, and though we were torn among several heart-breakers, we wanted a boy this time, and kept a handsome red guy Michael named "Murphy." We had hopes of showing Murph, because he really is a big, "typey" Maine Coon--- but he was high strung and hated shows. We took our mellow and pretty little show-off Katie with him to what would be his last show in an attempt to calm him down. He went psycho--- and Kate won second best alter in show!

That was the end of both of their show careers--- though some of Kate's kittens went on to become CFA and TICA Supreme Grand Champions!

Murphy, who was and is so bonded to Michael that I refer to them as "joined at the hip," stayed with his Dad when our marriage ended. He's now a happy healthy boy living in Northern California. He still hates cat shows and won't even watch one on TV.

It would be difficult to find a more winsome, vocal, or playful cat than my Kate has been. She used to love to hide in the grocery bags after we emptied them, and more than once she got trapped in a cupboard while we were putting things away.

She loved the sun--- not that we saw much of it in Seattle--- and would perch and pose for hours at a time, luxuriating in the feel of her own warm fur. She always smelled soooo good after a sunbath!

She knew her own mind, did Kate, and didn't begrudge sharing her thoughts with you. She had definite likes and dislikes--- she would come yell at me if she felt her box wasn't quite clean enough, and wait impatiently, muttering to herself, while I scooped and wiped. As soon as I was finished and said "Okay, Kate!" she'd stomp in and soon I'd hear the crunch of litter as she delicately covered up.

Kate let us know early on that she did not like closed doors. We had delusions of keeping the guest room cat-free, but all that ended the day we inadvertently left the door open for a bit--- long enough for Kate to make a fragrant deposit on the bed pillow. We never closed the door again--- and she rarely went in there. She just wanted to know that she could get in if she wanted to!

She seemed, throughout Beth's life, to trade the Alpha Cat position back and forth with Maribeth. Job-sharing! It worked for them.

Kate always liked boys, and she was nearly as unhappy as I when Michael and I split up in 1994. After an initial adjustment phase, Kate was an enormous comfort to me in our new apartment. She took to sleeping in the crook of my arm, and would perch on top of me on Saturday mornings for "quality time" with busy me. Four years later we would move again--- the Big Move to Atlantic Canada and a wonderful new home with a handsome new "boy" she could charm.

And charm him she did, soon wrapping him around her paw and convincing him (during the time she and Beth were alone with him before I arrived) that she was entitled to lunch as well as breakfast and dinner! I was roundly denounced as a killjoy when I showed up and put a swift stop to that nonsense! (Much later, after she slipped getting up on her food perch one day, she also convinced him that she needed to be picked up and gently placed at her food station for every meal instead of clambering up the cat condo as she used to. *sigh* That was my girl!)

Kate was very proud of her appearance, and had always been told what a great beauty she was. That's why, when my camera caught her in a split second of dishabille while washing herself one morning on the range top, we nearly collapsed with laughter at the result. (Not within earshot of Kate, of course!) We couldn't even bring ourselves to label the picture "Katie." Instead, we refer to the film-captured cat as "Bub--- Katie's Evil Twin." See for yourself!:

Kate had such a strong personality that the house seemed dead empty whenever she was away for the day--- at the vet, for example--- and it's so hard to imagine life without her. She called upstairs for us in the morning, complaining about the slowness of the breakfast service, and hurried to curl up on top of me whenever I lay down on the living room couch to read or nap. She preferred to spend her nights downstairs with her old friend Maribeth--- because the boys, Maxx and Reilly, share our big bed. She suffered a long period of mourning for her chum, during which she kept to herself and slept alone on the couch they once shared. When it ended, she decided to assert herself and reclaim our attention--- staking out a space for herself on the bed (boys or not!) and for a while she slept with me again. She never lacked for much, our Kate--- she was the exasperating, endearing, marvelously alive spark that lit our every day, and we will miss her always.

Katie

November 1986 October 2002