One of the most important presence's in my life for the past eighteen years has been that of my pet, a cat named Cory. Not only has she taught me some valuable lessons, but she had been my unwavering companion.
When I adopted Cory I was only thirteen years old and she was four weeks old. I rescued her from the local pound. All my pets in the past had died, so this little puff of fur and whiskers represented new hope for me. I have always loved animals and Cory is no exception.
In the beginning Cory grew quickly far surpassing my own development. While I was still struggling through the turmoil of puberty she was already giving birth. Unfortunately her fertility knew no bounds. After two litters and nine kittens in three months my parent insisted that she be fixed. She was furious with me for this betrayal. To this day I don't think she ever really forgave me for that transgression.
During my teenage years she was a faithful friend. Trusted to keep my secrets and listen for hours to my hopes, dreams, aspirations, and problems she never offered solutions yet also spoke no judgmental words and gave no unsolicited advice. At times her support, just sitting on my lap purring and licking my hand, was enough for me.
One vivid memory I have of this time was sneaking out of the house late one evening to go for a midnight walk. I was strolling down a dark country road and heard a noise behind me. I wasn't scared but curious. Then I spotted her in the tall grass at the side of the road, her green eyes shining above a patch of white chest hair. I smiled and kept on walking comforted by the rustle of her quietly following me. After that night there were many evenings when she accompanied me in my wanderings.
As an adult I looked forward to coming home from work and being greeted by my stalwart ally. Getting up for work in the morning was made more bearable by her vocal greetings. Of course she insisted on being fed before I did anything else.
One thing over the years that always fascinated me about Cory is her wild instincts. My first glimpse of this was when she was giving birth. Later, I spent endless hours sitting on my deck watching her stalk some real or imagined prey. She loved to hunt and bring home a prize kill to show off. One particularly frightening incident was when my brash pet decided she was a match for a raccoon that was invading her territory. She lost that fight and almost lost her back foot in the process. The sheer audacity of this act only increased my admiration for her.
In her later years, Cory really mellowed out although she was not used to being a city cat. Like her, I've grown up quite a bit since our early days together. She was almost 19 years old, when she made the journey to the Bridge. She is still, to me, the embodiment of everything I strive to be; confident, strong and independent; mysterious, unusual, unpredictable and adventurous; and last but not least feminine and alluring.