Good Night, Gracie

I miss my kitten.

She was a total nutter and would go completely insane when freed from her daily confinement of our upstairs bedroom when I got home from work.

For at least two hours she would run and jump on everything that would or wouldn't move. The two older cats would be subjected to her Napoleonic, leopard-like pounces.

It killed me the way she would hop on their backs and then crisscross them while they were trying to get back down the stairs and under the dining table, where they (wrongly) thought that they would be safe. Gracie would just hop onto the dining chairs and then bat them from above their heads.

Personally, I was very amused.

What I will miss most, though, is the way that - once she got tired and wanted a snuggle and a nap - Gracie would walk along the back of the couch and climb down me like I was steep hill. Half of the way down, she would stop and lay on me. It was like wearing a warm, purring boa.

I'll miss the way she would gently touch my face with her paw.

I always imagined that she was telling me something sweet, telling me about her day and about all of the crazy stuff that she saw from her upstairs window-ledge perch. She was probably just saying, "Thanks for the food, Lady. Don't forget to give me some more tomorrow." Cats are like that.

Anyway, I'll miss her. She was a joy and a crackup to have around. She went to a good home, with good people who will love her and care for her. She'll have another cat to play with; she'll have the run of a Zen Garden and a dog to pick on; she'll get to sleep in the bed with mom, dad and her new sister.

I was only her surrogate mommy for one month, but I loved her nonetheless.

Bye-bye, Gracie. Keep your box clean.