Priscilla

On my sixteenth birthday, my mom gave me a black Persian kitten. I named her Priscilla Desiree and we called her Prissy for short. She was my baby, as no one else could stand her. It seems that Prissy had an attitude problem from birth. When I went to college, she became my Mom's responsibility until she got re-married. At that point, Prissy went to live with Joe. Joe despised Prissy, and Prissy despised Joe. However, Joe must love me very much, because he always took good care of her. When we got married, Prissy would have once again become my responsibility, but I got pregnant and could not handle the cat litter. I got to love and spoil Prissy while Joe took care of the icky stuff. Because Joe loves and spoils me, he continued to take care of the icky stuff even after Noah was born.

Like I said before, Prissy had an attitude problem since birth. It got even worse the older she got. She preferred solitude most of the time. So when we moved into our new home, we left Prissy in our old home. Joe went back there every day to check on her, and I would go as often as I could to spend time with her. Friday night I was back there with her and she was just as ornery as usual. Sunday morning, when Joe went to go feed her, he found her passed away, curled up in her favorite sleeping place. He came back up to the house to tell me. He said, "I have bad news and good news, what so you want first?" Now I am a bad news first person. I always have been. I mean, how can you enjoy good news if you are bracing yourself for the bad news to come? Anyway, the bad news was that my cat that I loved for nearly fifteen years had died. It took a while to absorb the news. I knew that she had already lived longer than normal, but I guess I just expected her to be sick, or give us some warning. Now that I think about it, I am glad that we did not have any warning, because that may mean that she did not suffer, she just went to sleep and did not wake up.

About an hour later, after I had processed the fact that she was gone, I remembered that Joe said he had good news. When I asked him about it he said, "Oh yeah, we don't have to buy any cat food this week!" I know it sounds horrible, but at least it made me laugh. Because of his love for me, my husband has been very good to that cat, but I am not so sure that he was sad to see her go. He did however go out in the pouring rain Sunday and give her a proper burial. I will miss my Prissy. Attitude and all, she will always have a place in my heart.