Roxy was a great cat, everything I look for in a feline companion. She liked to be petted, she was a brutal and effective hunter. She drooled. Not some polite little spittle, this was a copious and unceasing flow of drool coming from her core.
I'm sitting at my parents computer, the place where she would approach me -- especially when I was wearing a black outfit. She's come over and sit while I'd web surf or blog, begging to be petted and loved. My parents other pet, an unstoppable Maltese named Daisy had long since usurped Roxy as the pet of choice.
Daisy got walks and table scraps and toys and attention. Roxy got food and a warm place to sleep. What attention Roxy did receive Daisy would jealously work to regain the spotlight.
The end has been near for a while. She was diagnosed with Feline Leukemia a year or two ago. You could see she was wasting away, even though she'd scarf down this expensive wet food known only to me as Packet. "She loves the Packet." my mom would say.
When I got back from San Jose last night, Mom braced me for the endgame. She said that Roxy was very tired and thought that the end was near.
This morning Dad put Roxy into a cardboard PetCo carrier along with an old green towel that has been in the family for years.
By the time he got to the vet she was gone.
Dad was choked up when he told me. And I'm a little weepy now as I write this. I guess it was seeing that towel, her final shedding in the box. And writing this here in the chair where she used to visit me.
Good bye Roxy, where ever you are. You were a good kitty.