Apr 05 2009
My Daisy-Girl
When I was a kid I had a cat. She was special to me, because my grandmother was moving and we found my cat, which I named Daisy, and her sister, which I named Daphne, among Grandma’s stuff. I had to beg my parents to let me keep the cats. Daisy was an orange tabby and Daphne was a calico. The first week I got the cats home we had to take them to the vet and Daphne ran away, so Daisy became my special pet.
Daisy was the perfect pet cat. She did many cat things, like eating grass and getting sick, killing mice or birds and leaving them for me to find, and using her claws where they were not allowed to be used. But she was also the kind of cat that would come to me, sit in my lap, purr when she was happy, and she was mine.
I had Daisy for several years, and she even had kittens a few times. One of the saddest days of my life was when she died. We had moved to a new state, and we had left Daisy by herself before, but this time when we went on vacation she refused to eat. It must have been because of the new area. Maybe she thought we were not coming back. She ended up getting sick, and we had to let the vet put her down.
Now I live in a house with a husband who hates cats and kids who are allergic, and I despair of ever having a cat again. But I still remember my Daisy-girl with a lot of great memories.
