Rather than go through and reply individually, let me just thank everyone for your kind words.
I’m still a little rattled from Friday. I found out Mavis was dead the hard way: I thought she was asleep on the couch and went to pet her and she was cold. The vet up the street has a cremation service. I won’t be getting the ashes back, but I kept her collar of course. Random (who is a year older) has been extra-clingy—not surprising. He seems to have realized that she’s not around anywhere.
Never let anyone tell you that animals don’t mourn.
I got Mavis around Halloween of 1993; some friends were trying to farm out a litter of kittens, and I was the first person Mavis approached on her own. Every time anyone else came over, she hid. Me, she came out and draped herself over my shoe, and I got her on the provision that I not change her name–she had already been tagged with ‘Mavis’.
It seemed to suit her.
I was a little concerned that Random wouldn’t take to having a new kitten around, although he had taken well to ‘s cat. Random, as it turned out, immediately adopted this little kitten as his baby sister and she took to Random like her big brother and the two of them were usually found curled up around each other, bright orange and jet black, sleeping happily.
She wasn’t a ‘people cat’, not like Random, who views every hand as an opportunity to pet him. She first had to decide that you weren’t an axe murderer, which she was convinced everyone but me was. The first time came to visit me, before he moved here, she bolted for the bedroom. When I went to pick her up, she went buzz-saw on my hand, and I went back out into the living room, hand bloodied, to announce to my wide-eyed friend that Her Ladyship was not currently granting audiences.
An hour and a half later, she was curled up in his lap, sound asleep. She was a lap cat, once she finally decided your lap was safe.
Yeah, I’m going to miss her lots.
Meanwhile, my car mysteriously decided to start working yesterday, after my mechanic showed up to look at it. Oy.