She is 19 years old and getting creaky, unable to gracefully ascend the window
sills anymore without human elevator hands. She lives on a farm where she previously
caught rodents and birds. Not rabbits like the other cats because she is only
tiny, and because she is a lady. She has vicious mood swings and sharpened claws,
but mostly she ignores everyone with her nose in the air. She needs special
protection at meal times from the uncouth and ill-bred cats that are also of
the farm.
When she was a kitten she was nicknamed Suey, due to her almost falling from a two-storey balcony on a daily basis. When we shifted to a farm next door to where she was born, she snubbed her feline relatives. She has outlived all of her contempories and on some days she sparkles like she was six months old. We tend to call her Mitty on account of her white feet, more often than Topsy.
Her prefered sunning spot is in the lavender bushes, and she always smells lovely.
Although we now live in different countries I fly home every summer to see her. We have mapped out the stars to rendezvous at in the next life, when hopefully I will have achieved cat status.
As always, the photo does not do her justice.