Charlotte: Sweet Dreams & Rest in Peace

December (?) 1992 - November 28, 2007

Charlotte, nee "Star", came into my life almost exactly fourteen years ago (December 1993). I adopted her when she was approximately one year-old, after she'd been rescued by a local fostering agency. It had been reported that Charlotte was pregnant and was seen getting kicked by her owner(s). After the rescue, she was given a kitty-abortion and then spayed. She'd been named "Star" for the four-pointed diamond upon her forehead. My roommate at that time thought "Charlotte" was a better name, so that one stuck.

Charlotte was like a little feline sprite, full of spirit, gumption, and smarts. When I moved into an upstairs apartment one time, she almost immediately figured out how to use the bedroom window as an exit, traversing the rooftop and the slanty garage-top until she could get to the high wooden backyard fence, do a bit of balance-beam work, and then jump down from there. To come home, she merely retraced her steps. It was amazing to watch her gymnastic grace.

She was a huge flirt who really loved men, for some mysterious reason. I mean, was it their male phermones? Inter-species love? It was almost embarrassing to watch her throw herself at male friends who would visit. But, really, she liked everyone. Charlotte was full of life that way.

Charlotte was tough as nails. She never let the local "mean kitty" of the 'hood get the better of her. She would stare the bully down, never backing away, despite her petite size. (The only one who could push her around was my other cat, the twenty-pound orange love-monster known as Hamlet. In his younger years, he could --and often would-- sit on her and make her scream.)

So soft like a rabbit she was, and full of tender affection for me. In the colder seasons, Charlotte would sleep upon my noggin at night, nesting in my hair. Often she lay a sweet paw upon my cheek or hand. I found her to be incredibly loving as well as compulsively meow-y. She loved to chat at you, especially in the kitchen. My friend Travis called her "Kitchen Talker". Some of us gave her other nicknames: Baby G.G. Little Scratches. Charlemagne.

Beloved by me and adored by all who knew her, Charlotte is sorely missed. I will never forget her beautiful, perky, little, sweet, fuzzy face and her brilliant personality. I'm so grateful for the life we shared together, and I am thankful her suffering has now ended.

However, she has left a huge hole in my heart...

Goodbye, my baby girl C.

Sleep well.