She went out as she lived - independent and on her own terms. She died in the middle of the night while we were sleeping.
I can't say we were surprised to wake and find her gone, but of course we mourned her. Living to the ripe old age of 21.5 she was a big part of our life together. We adopted her from the Denver Dumb Friends League in 1992 when she was 10 months old.
Suffice it to say, she was a charmer from the beginning. Why "A-choo" you may ask. When we first met her in one of the little visitation rooms at the shelter she was all over us - sweet and loving and cuddly as could be. But she sneezed. A lot. It was kind of cute. So we dubbed her A-choo. And she came home to join her big "brother" Ames.
As I said - she was independent. So once secure that she was in her forever home (who knew it would be 21.5 years forever) the desire to cuddle lessened and she took on her role as aloof A-choo. We loved her all the more for her distinct personality and catittude! When we hugged her and she squirmed to get away we told her she need 2 minutes of "forced affection." She always let us do it.
She liked popcorn and would give you those eyes when she wanted some. (Only the puffy part so she wouldn't choke, though.)
She took catittude to new levels.
She was silly
and she liked a good party.
And a good box.
She was beautiful. Not in an ordinary cat kind of way. She was really beautiful.
I will remember her as playful and silly and funny and mischievous.
But mostly I will remember her as thoughtful, wise and special.
She was so special...
Rest in peace, 'Choosey. You will be in our hearts forever.