It was a very good milestone year, but all good things come to an end. Just before Christmas I had to say farewell to the furry love of my life, Miss Flora Underfoot.
        Only a cat? Is that all? When an animal has been a part of your life for 15 years, it's never only a cat. And Miss Flora bonded to me very early. She was only a few ounces of fluff when she was found, frightened and alone, in a parking lot. I accepted her from the friend who found her, nursed her back to health, and provided her a lap to cuddle in until she could be introduced to our grown cats. She suckled on my shirt buttons. I used a damp washcloth to encourage her to eliminate after eating. I became Mom. She loved it when I brushed her. I think it felt like Mom was washing her.
        Flora developed many nicknames. The Fabulous Flying Flora was the teenager who leapt high for a toy. Miss Fluffbudget as she grew into her long, lovely black coat (her down/undercoat was sable brown/gray). Florecita, and later Florecita mi bonita (dear little Flora, my beauty). Miss Fluff-for-Brains. Mi Preciosa. And my favorite: God's Little Dispensation. For that she was. I had some very hard times about 10 years ago. Miss Flora was there to snuggle up, purr, and give me kitty hugs. Her hugs were so sweet. She would rub her head against both sides of my neck, then stretch her paws out as far as they could go around my neck and stretch, still nuzzling. How can one resist a purring teddy bear?
        In early December, Flora developed a cough. A vet visit and antibiotics cleared it up, but she lost weight and even interest in food. An x-ray showed fluid in one lung; an ultrasound showed the bad news: it wasn't fluid, it was tissue. And the tissue was systemic sarcoma. The vet suggested I take her home and see if I could make her comfortable: this wasn't something surgery could fix. But Miss Flora took matters into her own paws. Despite my tempting her with smelly fishy foods, she really wasn't eating. I was able to give her a week of extra care and attention, but it was time. I love our vet. The day of the appointment I brushed Flora (always our special time), then held her as the vet gave her a sedative. She fell asleep on my shoulder, purring. Only then did she receive the final injection to help her across the Rainbow Bridge. It was hard. But it was handled gently, with care for patient and mom.

        Farewell, dear Miss Underfoot, Miss Flora Fluff for Brains, Florecita mi Bonita. You really were God's Little Dispensation.

Who sez cats are uncommunicative?

If this works, an outrageous youtube video posted to Cute Overload should be visible. Hope you enjoy it! He is the most verbal cat I have ever seen. Miss Flora swears in Cat (and only when Cicero deserves it); This guy heckles in Human.

Miss Flora is Not Impressed

I had hopes that Flora, the 13-year-old, would cotton to Cicero because he's so sweet, he's not a girl, and her mommie instincts would kick in. Alas, to no avail. They have seen one another in passing, and under the door, but each time Flora tries to show me how many kittycuss words she knows. Her vocabulary is as astounding as her volume.

She is Not Amused. The photo says it all. Her superior Cattitude, her scorn of Lesser Cats, and her Lack of Amusement all show in this shot. Poor Flora. She is destined to be big sister, so she'd better get used to the idea.