Nellie

My beautiful sweet kitty Nellie , died on Friday. She was 23 years old, had lived through at least three boyfriends, a new husband, and the consequent acquisition of two big dogs. Nellie was a New Yorker. She was born on the streets of the Bronx where I lived in 1984. I was on the waiting list for a kitten that spring and they were in short supply. My first choice was a tortoise hair girl, but I was second in line and got Nell. She came home with me in a cardboard box on the bus at just 8 weeks old.

Back in those youthful days she climbed the curtains, hid under the bedspread, made a break for it down the hall of the apartment building, slept in the sink and jumped in the refrigerator. She was a handful, a crazy character, and full of spit. I recall her racing wildly through the interior of my newly acquired Steinway grand, something that both startled and amazed me. I was too stunned to do much except watch in shock hoping she wouldn't do any permanent damage. During afternoon piano lessons she would sleep on my lap in a tiny purring fluff ball.

Turns out she spent years listening to kids learning to play the piano, but tended to prefer a bed or closet or hallway to being in the same room with us. She was always available for petting and the occasional snarl when an unknowing child would try to pick her up and snuggle. Wrong!
After she swatted me in the eyelid, I extracted her claw from my skin and decided that declawing was the only way I could keep her around children, such was her calico temperment and all. After the deed was done I regretted it for the rest of her life, not understanding beforehand what a mutilation it would be of her sweet white paws. I felt like such a traitor watching her suffer with the bloody bandages. She never walked the same way afterwards.

Over the years she slept on the bed every night between Scott and me, but eventually had trouble leaping up. We made a spot for her in the living room with a cozy handmade quilt which made her happy. If you weren't up at 7 or so, you would hear about it. She marched up the stairs and meowed in the hallway so loudly that multiple pillows couldn't drown the crying, and sometimes Scott would throw pillows at her to keep her in a lower decibel range.

Nellie and I spent almost half of my life together. I cherish my good fortune to have the gift of her company, her wit and her spunk. As she got older and slower, she waddled out to beg for tidbits amongst the dogs, usually keeping them in line with her demands. They were most certainly scared and respectful of her, giving her a wide berth except when the rare opportunity to sniff her up close presented itself only because her hearing and smell had deteriorated to the point where she wasn't aware of their proximity.

Nellie, you were my sweet baby and there will never be another girl like you in my life. Thank you my dear, and Godspeed my love.You will always be in my heart.