She came to me in May of 1998, along with her brother, Dickens, and her sisters, Pippen and Molly. She was just 3 weeks old – a little wisp of a kitty. She let it be known that she was never going to be a lap cat. Or a sleep on the bed cat. Or a curl up on the couch cat.
She would simply be her own cat, true to her nature. That meant she would spend as much time as possible leaping to the highest places in my home. She would hang out on high shelves in my closets. In fact, she spent so much time on top of the refrigerator I considered giving her a dust cloth. Of course, that would have been futile – Star would never be a cat who did chores.
In 2010, I lost my forever cat, Pippen, who was Star’s sister. When Pip left, a huge space opened up in my life. Star was 12 years old, and I think she decided a little cuddle time with the big person wouldn’t be so bad. She started inching her way toward me, getting closer and closer as the months went by.
This past year, when I brought a sword into my life and began writing my new book, Breathing Fire, Star made a huge leap. She became the “sleep on the desk” cat. She would curl up on my sticky notes and nap her little heart out. She was my unexpected travel companion on my new journey.
And that’s when I discovered something I’d never realized before – of all the dogs and cats who had shared my life, Star was the one who was most like me. She and I saw the world in the same way. I had always lived my life out in the cosmos, with my head in the clouds and my heart in the starry skies. I know that is how Star felt, too – being confined to a single space/time continuum was not for her, either.
She is happy, now, flying through the heavens. I hear her meowing with pleasure as she leaps among the constellations. “I will wait for you, but don’t be in a hurry,” she whispers. “There’s still so much you have to do.”
She is right, of course.
Fly for me, little one.
Chris…your earthly mama