ver the years,(and there have been many of those) there have been numerous small friends I have had to part company with most unpleasantly. Terry Lee was one of them.
A small, light-weight domestic shorthair, a midnight-black 'Haloween Kitty with a beautiful bright splash of white on his apron, a sunburst-shape that made the little guy look as if he were the Goddess Bast's most prized offspring. He was a very loyal and loving little fellow. He seemed to slip into my heart almost overnight.
At the time there was another little guy already firmly lodged in my heart, and attention for newcomers was minimal. However, it happened to me most suddenly.
The youngest of the 'family' of four, he began his campaign of conquest with a vengeance.
My bed pillow; well, the larger half, was his (as long as I was present to share the other half). In the woodworking shop, he took over the corner by the old wood stove, claiming my chair as his. So we moved another in beside him. That one became his too!
In the living room he took over my recliner, whether occupied or not, bowing only to prior occupancy by his big brother.
When the day came that his big brother was taken from us, he was the one who did his best to make ammends for the loss, giving love in great doses, taking all into his heart. I fought against his advances for the longest time, but, in the end his will was done.
His mother, Princess Ebony, and his younger brother, Jon Tomas, alone remained out of the family once numbering 22. Of that number, 8 remained as house-kitties for many years.
The three made the transition with us when we packed up and moved to the northern part of the state, to start a new life in our own home in the country. Terry was the strong one, even though his mother was the Matriarch, and acknowledged leader of the trio. The first hours in the new house Terry stood guard in the doorway of the back bedroom closet where his younger brother and his mother huddled in the corner in abject fear. You could tell he was just as frightened, but he would allow none but me near the small pile of black fur hiding in the darkned closet. He was the first to make the rounds of our new 'world' and announce to the others "All is Well, we are safe!"
His later years were spent always in the house, and when we were home from work, his place was in my lap, or at least on the arm of my chair, or the corner of the
desk where I spent hours doing my assorted 'things' with whatever had attracted my attention at the moment. Nights were more often than not, spent in the crook of my left arm, with a firm grip on my arm and, I must add here, on my heart.
His devotion to humans was not limited to myself. He simply adored his human mom, Miss Lisa, and on the rare occasions our two sons and their sister put in an apperance, he was most happy making sure all were thoroughly loved and contented. Any offers of treats he would accept most graciously, making sure that he left the door open to future offers.
Sometime prior to our moving to our new home, he had been diagnosed with an illness that was relatively new to the medical minds of the day, and naturally there was no sure 'cure' for such. We, however had medication we could administer when Terry showed signs of illness. He had seven long years on occasional medication before we were one day told there was no further signs of the illness. So, life was good, and we were happy to have my little friend in good health.
One day, several years later, he did not respond to my calls at breakfast time. I found him at the back door as if he had been trying to get outside. When I picked him up, I knew he would not be with us much longer and the world, as I knew it, crumbled into dust. That evening, after holding him while he made his last attempt to make Daddy's arm and hand clean, I said good-bye to My Little Friend. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life to take what was left of his little life. It was quick; then he was at rest, and he finally knew peace with no pain.
That night, 'Rainbow Bridge' was blessed with the arrival of a new resident. One who would, one day, be waiting for me at the foot of that bridge to once again make his dramatic and happy leap into my arms, shower me with kitty kisses, and wrap around my arm as I accept the welcomes of the others of my 'family' that had gone before. I know this is a sure fact of the future, just as I know that all souls, whether quadruped or human, join once again after death, to continue in eternal love and friendship.
Rest well Terry, and remember, my little friend, I will be with you again one day soon!
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