Ode to Taffy

Taffy was really a fabulously beautiful cat to look at, and she knew it - knew she had a great pair of Siamese-blue eyes, which made a nice contrast to her silvery striped fur. And she knew how to use those eyes to give a winsome look that infallibly led anyone it was directed at to melt into an adoring puddle and start talking baby talk...at least, I did. It's true that we sometimes called her a dumb cat, but I suspect we were deceived. She only had three brain cells (a fact we diagnosed with the help of a Magic Eight Ball) but she used those brain cells so cleverly that she was a feline genius, and had many talents for manipulating us all, her goal being to harvest all the attention she wanted, especially from her favorite humans, Ivy and Sharron (from whom she loved to receive an upside-down hug, purring like a buzz saw.) And even though we could all see her Machiavellian machinations, nobody minded, because she was quite the sweetest cat I have ever had the pleasure to meet. I will miss her gracious greeting at the door (she was scrupulous about welcoming all guests with a musical meow while winding a few figure-eights around their ankles)and her soft weight on my lap where she would sit for a little and purr delightfully and be petted and praised in Spanish (it seemed appropriate), before she'd wander over Jason's shoulders, pay a visit to John's lap, collect some attention and Japanese endearments from Ivy, and plump down in Sharron's arms for a big hug. We'll all miss her. I hope the other cats won't take her passing too hard, though I know they miss her. Their humans will comfort them and also be comforted by them, because they are sweet and loving kits. But Taffy was unique.

Love you, gatica preciosa.