After 19 years of gracing our lives with her mews, random batterings with ribbon, and ample lap time, Miss Marple left us Tuesday in one of those inevitable, heartbreaking transitions. My mother and I adopted Miss Marple in 1998 shortly after moving into a new home following my parents divorce. It was one of those “Mom, let’s just go to the Humane Society to look…please?” and a few hours later, I had this tiny, three-year-old short-haired cat curled up and purring on my lap. I ragged my mother for years later, as she was keen on this beautiful white-haired feline, but my heart was already stolen. Miss Marple (known fondly as “Marple,” “Marps,” “Shmarple,” and “Chimichunga”) joined her new brother, Kitsy, and brought out his youthful spirit.
Tuesday was a rough day. I wished that I could be there with my mom; instead, we cried over the phone together, recognizing that we wanted to honor her with the life she deserved to live, not one dragged out with painful, unwelcomed procedures. I believe that she is united with Kitsy, curled up together as they once were many moons ago. She brought me such comfort during one of the darkest periods of my life, and I will forever be grateful for her unyielding love and trust.