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Writer's pictureEmma Dickenson

Casey



We had a loss on the farm this week.

One of our beloved napping cats passed away.


Here's my version of her story:

I'm not sure how old I was when we got Casey, but I do remember my parents showing up with two kittens when they returned from a bike ride one day. One was long-haired and gray, Whisper, with a slight bend on the end of his tail and piercing green eyes. The other was Casey. She was short-haired and sandy colored and also had beautiful green eyes. I'm not sure if cats that look that different can be siblings, but they were found together at a dump site and both had green eyes lined with light markings.



Casey always wanted to sleep on my bed with me. When I was in middle and high school, I can remember her scratching on my door to come in and sleep and keep me company. Sometimes I wouldn't let her because I didn't want cat hair on my bed. Ha. But when I changed my mind, climbed out of bed, and crossed the room to let her in, she would be sitting right there waiting for me. And then she'd trot right in with her tail up, so excited to simply sleep at the foot of my bed. On the occasion that we were hosting visitors, she would sleep on their bed to make them feel at home. But whoever passed through the house, even my parents, for some reason, I was the only one who could ever pick her up. I guess she trusted me.



My most recent memories are probably the happiest. She would greet me whenever I came home to visit from college. Her squeaky little meow and her rubbing up on my black leggings leaving cat hair everywhere...she made it known that she missed me. She would follow me to the bathroom, living room, and around the yard to go exploring if she was feeling adventurous. If I stayed for 24 hours, you can bet she was with me about 23 of them. If I was in the kitchen, she was winding around my legs. If I was on the couch, she was playing on the rug. If I was outside then she was probably there too. And when it was bedtime, I could find her washing on my rug in my room. She knew she was going to get to sleep with me because I missed her too. And then in the morning I'd find her curled up on the quilt. 8 more hours, by my side.


Whenever I would pet her, her nose would get all drippy. We looked it up and that just meant that she was really relaxed and peaceful. I always thought it was kind of annoying, but it was just one of her sweet little quirks. She also liked to spend time on the roof. Now who knows why this was, haha. When she was ready, she'd jump down and run to the back door, squeaky little meow.


I grew up with her. I grew up with the cats playing in the yard, in the garden, climbing trees.

It might sound silly to say but honestly the cats we rescued as I was growing up were the original squad. LOL. Who calls cats their squad. But if you grew up with them, you would know that they each had their own individual personality.



Maybe it's silly that I'm sharing this much. Silly that I feel so much for a cat. But I think people with pets will understand. Animals don't speak English but they communicate with us in different ways. And, goodness, do those furry creatures know how to make their way into our hearts. Pets don't judge you. They don't talk bad about you. Instead they pee on the floor...

Haha but really though. We don't deserve pets. So loyal. I know some people think that cats are arrogant, but I don't know. Mine were pretty great.


To all the farm kitties we've ever lost.

 
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1 Comment


Jennifer Dickenson McLeod
Jennifer Dickenson McLeod
Apr 15, 2019

What a great tribute. I have a picture of Casey sleeping on Mom's neck/back when we were visiting your house. I grieve with you in your loss...

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