Remembering Zoe

A few weeks ago, Zoey passed away. She was 18 years old, which is old for a cat. She was quite the personality. She loved feet, especially human feet. As a kitten, she enjoyed crawling under blankets and biting my feet.

It was a special bonus for her if she woke me up as a result of her tootsie taste tests. Later on, she sat on top of the bed and dove every time she saw my feet move. It was a great sport for both of us.

Zoey loved her best friend, Smokey. He was a big, long-haired gray cat, who was a lover, not a fighter. The two of them enjoyed chase games at all  hours of the day or night. Zoey meowed loudly and hissed with gusto. Smokey made less noise but the sight of him attempting to sit on the much smaller Zoey caused humans to attempt an intervention. Fortunately, Smokey was easily distracted so, when he was closing in on sitting on top of Zoey, the sight of the humans walking toward him caused him to forget what he was doing. He looked at the humans and at Zoey and trotted away.

Zoey was not a mouser. Normally, she completely ignored mice, while Smokey chased them and played with them, as if they were toys. One time, she actually meowed at a mouse, but the mouse didn't know how to answer her.

Zoey's meow was legendary. I don't know if I've ever met a cat that meowed with quite that much gusto or volume. She truly had quite a lot to say and she wanted to make sure that the humans were listening. She was truly the Queen of the Meows.

Zoey and Smokey are no longer with me, but they will have a place in my heart forever. I love you forever and always. Zoey and Smokey, presente.