On Thursday of last week, we had to say goodbye to our little Maisie. She’d been ill for several months, had stopped responding to her meds, and we knew there was nothing else we could do. We couldn’t let our baby suffer anymore.
Needless to say, we are heartbroken. Vivian misses her too. She roams from room to room — and outdoors — looking for her sister and lifelong companion.
We console ourselves by remembering Maisie had a full and beautiful life. No cat, ever, was more loved. She always had Viv to watch over her and keep her company whenever we were away. She reveled in the freedom to explore the outdoors here on Perry’s Point, but preferred to stay close to us when we sat out on our deck.
Maisie, you were much more than a pet to us. You graced us with heaps of generous love and affection and your sweet, unique brand of friendship for almost thirteen years. And your quiet dignity, even in sickness, will never be forgotten. You are pain-free at last.
Our Maisie was the epitome of worry and concern the other day when she caught a flicker of movement outside the window. Standing on tippy-toes to see over a snowbank, she spied a neighbour’s cat prowling around our property.
Her territorial nature kicked in full force. Her tail puffed up. She hissed and growled. Maisie wanted to go out and drive that puss away, but her mom was not in the mood to referee a catfight that morning.
“The only thing a cat worries about is what’s happening right now.” ~ Lloyd Alexander, American author
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger — something better, pushing right back.” – Albert Camus
This is one of my best-loved quotes. Small wonder the author won the Nobel prize in Literature in 1957.
“Our familiar garden by the sea has transformed . . . each bramble and bush laminated in a thick, crystalline coat, every amber blade dressed in its stiff raiment of frost. With a watchful step, I venture out on the crust of snow.” – Jennifer Kelland Perry, Endless Chill