Dovey

Today was a hard day for me.
For the last week I have been trying to get one of my little cats to eat. She wouldn't and couldn't.
Today the hard decision was made to let Dovey go.
She wouldn't eat anything and all she wanted to do was drink.
She was so weak, I didn't have much choice.
Dovey was the best mouser, the best I ever had. Dovey would hear a mouse in this 96 year old house and she sat there in the kitchen until she got it.
She was a small dove-grey cat, only 11-12 years old.
Dovey was a feisty one, and if you invaded her space, most likely you were told by her to back away. It was only in the last few years that she tolerated you to pet her. Never on her head, but from the shoulders on back you could touch and stroke her body down to the end of her tail.
And she was a talker! If you were in the kitchen having a meal, or anywhere she saw you, she would just let loose with one of her outlandishly loud meows. You could literally hold a conversation with her. Dovey would 'say something', you would answer and she would respond.
Dovey wasn't one of the most cuddly cats, and I regret not being able to sit with her in my lap to pet and cuddle with her.
This last week was hard for both of us, and her sister, Cinders, never left her side. When Dovey went to drink, Cinders was with her.
She asked for so little, but gave so much even though she did it on her terms.
I will miss you little girl, wait for me when it is my time to cross our rainbow bridge...............