I am not a cat person.
But I am a tolerant person; and as a tolerant person I must admit that there are cats, which, from time to time make me rethink my aversion.
Squeek, our porch-lounging neighbor's cat, was one of those felines.
She was the anti-cat.
A sweet little calico, she got her name not only from her penchant to 'talk' but also the timber of her voice. She was neither timid nor feisty. She was friendly toward the children, even the tiny screamer who likes to pull tails. She greeted us every time we came home, rolled onto her belly in front of our path and begged for affection. Even if we were carrying groceries we had to stop and give her a pat. She just seemed to have a smile in whatever she was doing.
But last night she was hit by a car driving through our "driveway."
She didn't survive.
We are all saddened by her loss, especially Annabel who loved her more than pretty much any animal she's ever known. Even Maggie.
Goodnight, little Squeak. We will miss you.