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Annie Cat

Midway though our trip, our Annie Cat died.  It was inexorable.  For her, it was an awful wasting away.  For us, it was an awful decision to end what was left of her lovely life.  

 I remember what I thought the first time I saw her, when she was six, at the Golden Valley Animal Humane Society:  "She is a scared old lady", I thought.  She did not come running to ask for a home.  She tried not to make vibrations when she walked.  She had been abandoned, not to an alley, but to another couple, and by them to the Humane Society.  

 She never came running.  She always came gently. And while we were away on our trip, Michael, in Tucson, had to take her to the vet. In Minnesota, where we had found Annie, where we had found each other, Mari and I cried like . . . like I am doing now.

 I know precisely what scared Annie.

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