It hurts, of course, when your little pal is gone, and Squeakers was my little pal. She was sick for two years, got better, and then got worse, and nothing I could do really helped. She seemed to be getting better and stronger again last night, and when I checked on her this morning, she was gone.
Squeakers was a good cat. My little friend. I got her on August 9th, 2010. She was still a very small kitten. My former girlfriend's son had her, they had gotten her for free when someone had a box of kittens they were trying to give away, standing with a box by the side of the road with a Free Kittens sign -- there were just two kittens left, both Siamese mixes -- and so they got the littler one. Soon they found they had their hands full with two toddlers and a big dog, and so my former girlfriend texted me and said "you want a playful, people kitten?"
I said sure -- and soon enough, Sheryl brought over Squeakers (top picture).
And Squeakers was indeed a playful, people kitten. She loved to play mouse (sixth picture), and she was a lot of fun. She truly was my little pal. She was also quite sensitive to my moods. She didn't like it if my Mom and I got into an argument (we both had loud voices). Squeakers would complain until we stopped. She also didn't like my bagpipes. Over time I sensed that Squeakers knew when I was stressed, which happened a lot when I was taking care of my mother 24/7/365 with very little sleep.
One thing I've learned is that Cats key in on your moods. Sometimes they respond to your stress. They really are good and true companions.
Squeakers died on August 23rd, 2024, roughly 14 years old. In cat years, that's a long time -- 72 cat years. I was hoping she would be around for another few months at least, at least a year or two longer -- but it didn't happen.
So long my little pal. See you on the other side.
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