Oreo Cookie-Puss Stran 4/4/88 - 11/29/06

When I was getting ready to graduate from eighth grade, I tried to convince my parents that a perfect present would be to have a kitten of my own. I had gone to Corner's Pet Shop on Highway 100, where I had fallen in love with a tiny black and white longhaired kitten who immediately started purring when I held her (something she would do every time I picked her up for many, many years). My parents had held firm that one cat was enough for our house, and I was pretty much resigned to the idea-- but when we left for home from brunch after graduation, I realized something was odd when my mother rode home with my grandparents instead of with us. When they pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, I remember thinking, wait-- it couldn't be-- could it?-- as I watched my mom walking slowly up the walk to our front door with a large silver box in her hands. When she got closer, I could see that the box was wiggling. I opened the lid and this tiny black and white fluffball head poked out. I promptly burst into tears-- I was so incredibly happy that this little kitten was mine.

Eighteen and a half years later, I'm crying again, but it's to say goodbye. Oreo was a really big part of my life-- she lived with me in three states. She saw me through high school, college, five apartments, three roommates, and one condo. She was there when I got married. She was always happy to be in my lap or at the foot of my bed-- she was content just to be near me, and she was as affectionate and sweet as any pet I have ever known. She was amazing.

So to celebrate her long and eventful life I wanted to write this post. My pets are the closest thing to children I have and to lose two of them in two months has been incredibly hard for me and for Nate, but we take comfort in the fact that Oreo is at peace and isn't suffering, and has Bear to keep her company.