Shaggy and Emily

Shaggy growled fiercely whenever the dog came near her food. Tiny, but powerful – she was but a kitten.

Emily had picked her from the litter of Lucy, who belonged to the teacher across the street. (Emily had been in her class part of one year.)

That was about May of 2000 as Emily recalls. Emily was in fifth grade.

Lucy spent more time at our house than at her owner’s. This benefited Shaggy, who would nurse from her mother long after the other kittens had been given away.

Shaggy shared her life with her mother and the two other cats that called our house theirs.

That is, until Lucy was killed by the Pit Bull from around the corner up the street. Lucy is buried in our front yard.

Shaggy coveted Kathy’s lap. One day Gus was occupying her spot. She glowered jealously. From that day on, she tormented him.

Shaggy always got along with Fang (really Pumpkin) the big male cat. She hated Gus, the piano player, who was always sickly – or maybe she just enjoyed having power over him.

Later George arrived, and found acceptance by her. Laurel’s Gus was the only hated one.

Shaggy’s greatest enjoyment was being allowed to go out on the front step to roll on the warm concrete. A minute or two and she came back in; she was not a wanderer.

Fang always wandered, and would keep finding new places to hide when I went to bring him in at night. He died at home while Emily was graduating from High School.

Gus died; Laurel cried. I don’t remember when, in the order of things.

Emily moved out after she got her teaching job, and took George with her. She had picked Shaggy, but Shaggy had picked Kathy as her person.

George was replaced at our house by Tiger Lily. Tiger Lily was to be Sophie’s cat at her grandparents’ house. But she chose me as her person.

Shaggy was jealous of the attention that Tiger Lily got and would fight with her. Eventually she became confined in the upstairs Master Bedroom. Life was smaller there, but she could occasionally go out on the balcony to roll.

Shaggy was not bothered by water like many cats. She liked to play with the water if it was dripping from the bathtub faucet. Sometimes she would sit by the faucet waiting for drips that were not to come. She preferred water from the tub or sink faucets over that in a bowl.

Shaggy had a regular nighttime routine. She liked to lie on Kathy. I was her second favorite after Kathy, but eventually she figured out that I didn’t move around as much. Lately, she would start by Kathy’s head, then move to lying on me, and by morning was at the corner of the bed by my feet.

We had a scare a couple of years ago when Shaggy stopped eating. The problem was digestive and the vet sorted it out. We switched her from dry food to canned food. Once she got meaty-treaty, she never took another bite of her dry food.

Shaggy would complain that she was starving; no one ever fed her. She drank more water than any other cat I had known. But she continued to thrive, or so it seemed.

Slowly she lost weight, as old cats often do. She still jumped up on the counter and wanted water from the faucet.