Amber was the first cat I ever chose. She lived for 17 years and was a faithful companion. She loved to give kisses and cuddles, but was just as happy to be near a body. She was the first cat I had that weighed close to 20 pounds. She was the last cat in my family to be declawed, before we learned how truly horrible this practice is. She died of renal failure in 1989.

Chani was my special baby. She never got bigger than 6 pounds, even when pregnant. She gave birth twice and adopted a third litter. She was my snuggler. Her favorite human food was cantelope. She had a way of opening any lock. She was mischieviously sweet. She had problems with allergies all her life, but died at the age of 13 from Lymphatic Cancer. She was such a special girl, that when it came time for her to go, she woke me up to say goodbye. I held her and she purred until her last breath. It was such a special gift...as if she wouldn't go unless I told her I would be alright. She died May 10, 1999.

Commander Data joined my pride in 1988, after a rough first 6 months of life. I named him Data because of his playful curiosity and gold color. He only wanted to be with his humans. His favorite activities included turning on the restroom faucet, acting as an alarm clock, playing "fetch" with his mouse, and giving jaw-breaking kisses. He was a clown, a chicken, and a teddy bear. He was the other 20 pounder and was 30 inches from nose to rump, not including the tail. He followed Chani over the bridge, from Lymphatic Cancer, on September 10, 1999.

There once was a well-loved kitty named Chani who was married to a handsome strapping tabby, named Data. Their lives were good, they had food, warmth, a dry place to live, and a few toys, which included a pet Human. Time passed. They had a family which grew up and went their seperate ways , had careers, and grew older. Always, their pet Human was in attendance.

One day, Chani did not look well and her Human becamed concerned. She was driven to THE VET and told she had cancer and was probably going to die. She decided, rather than go through the horror of Chemo (even though it's not as horrible for cats as it is for humans) she would live out her days in peace, with her loved ones beside her. She lasted three months, ate things she would never allow herself to eat, just for the enjoyment of it, and snuggled with her husband and pet as much as she could.

The dreadful day came and she knew it was time. She also knew her pet Human would not understand, so she said her farewells to her husband and went to wake up the pet. She cuddled one last time, as the Human asked,"Is it time, now?" She reached up and carressed the Human's face once more with her paw, squinted, and purred, "Yes, it's time, now, but I will always be with you and I will always love you, my pet." Then, she closed her eyes and purred until her last breath, secure in the knowledge that her Human was holding her and loved her, too.

A few months later, Data was faced with the same problem. When the Pet Human took him to THE VET, he looked deeply into her eyes and said, "Let me be with Chani. You'll always have us both, looking after you, so don't be afraid. You will be sad and will miss us, but we'll send others to care for you while we're away, and we'll all meet again, later, at the Bridge, where we will never be parted again." The pet Human was very sad, but knew in her heart that both had said when they wanted to go, and both had known she loved them, as she knew they had loved her.

MORAL: Ask, they will tell you when it's time to go.

Willow was our one of our LP Siamese. She was a rascal! It was easy to tell where she had been. If it was shredded, knocked over, broken, misplaced, or had teeth marks, she did it! She was the only pet I've had to have destroyed. She bit a neighbor's boy and I had to turn her over to the authorities for "being a threat" She was 3 years old, that was 1990.

Cera was a Lilac-Point Siamese. I didn't know it, when I got her, but she had a bad heart. She lived long enough to give birth to five wonderful kittens, which we found great homes for, through our Vet. I made him give each kitten a thorough exam to make sure they didn't have the same problem. Cera died of a congenital heart defect, at the age of 2, in 1993.

I don't have pictures of the other two, Shaharazad and Wyrenth. They were both grey Persians.

Shaharazad was my college kitty. I adopted her at the age of 8 weeks, while I was a resident nanny for a family that had a 110 pound St. Bernard. They became fast friends and did everything together. One night, the dog rolled over on her and smothered her. I don't know which of us was sadder...the dog or me. Shaharazad only lived 3 months.That was in 1984.

Wyrenth was a skittish cat. She was never at ease anywhere. After she had kittens, she went nuts and ran away, in 1988. I never found her. Chani raised her kittens.