My cat, Queen Cleopatra Delta has died just now. She was a Mackerel Tabby American Shorthair cat. She was born somewhere around fifteen years ago on my Grandparent’s Farm in Oklahoma. My cousin found her and her brothers and sisters as very young kittens – too young to be seperated from their mother, so we each chose one to be ours. I chose Cleo’s sisters Butterscotch ( or is it milk?). My Sister chose her brother Hershey. My cousin chose Cleo and named her. At first we only got to visit our kittens on Sundays … after a little while we had finally conviced our parents to allow us to have them. The trick was to catch them, after all, they were all wild. My older cousin managed to get Hershey without a problem. My cat managed to flee, but my cousin was able to catch Cleo. She quickly won us over and took the title Queen. While we lived in that first house, she tried to attack a duck and a goose at the same time. She put up with us as we took three days on the road to move to Indiana, semi-sedated and howling the whole way. She continued to reign at the new house, even with that close call the day we moved (yet again) to a nearby town. You see, she was in the wardrobe hiding as people hurried to and fro helping us to pack up all of our vehicles. When they finally got to the bedroom in which she was hiding, she freaked everybody out as she ran out of the room, out of the house and dissapeared into the woods. I didn’t sleep well that night … after all, my cat and I were seperated by some ten or twenty miles. Fortunately for the both of us she decided to come back to the old house and wait for us to come and pick her up. In the third house we weathered the cold winters, the summers that could have stood to be warmer. Most of all she was there for me the year that I lost both of my Grandparents in Oklahoma … she was the gift that could be with me during that difficult time. We then moved to Kentucky … to a rental house where she scared a mouse so badly it decided to drown rather than face the usual punishment … beheading. I wasn’t here when we moved to this latest house … but I made sure that my parents knew to make sure she was secured that day. She managed well during my absence and kept control of the household. She remained as healthy as ever until quite recently … it’s somewhere around fifteen to eighteen years since that day my cousins and me found her family and now it’s last member has passed on. She outlived each and every one of them as well as every pet we’ve ever had. Her death was quiet, after a few spasms … Cleo is gone. She was my trusted friend when no human thought I was worth their time. She was special to each member of our family. Independant, Reliable … it was as if she was me for us … me and now she is unmade. So bear with me for a little while … things are going to be tough.