Purrfect Dozen Crew

I've written individual blog posts about the purrfect dozen crew, but with so many cats, it's challenging to keep track of them all. For readers, here's some background on each cat, even if you don't recall their names.

Mid-cat introductions, we found ourselves short of a dozen cats (we miss Rollie so much!). We are holding steady at 11 cats (I entertain the idea of getting another cat daily) - this makes Gene slightly happy (the holding steady at 11). He's waiting for us to get down to a more manageable number of pets. As I had only been writing about the current cats living with us, I have one cat whom I miss dearly and wish she were still here. She didn't make the blog posts because she is in Kitty Heaven, and I just haven't been able to write about her. Peppermint - the absolute best cat a girl could ever need or want.

She was a tuxedo cat - all black with a little bit of white on her nose, under her chin, and some on her paws. She was the mother of all mothers to all of our cats. She had been around the block and knew what would be allowed and not allowed in our house. She was the mother of all mothers of cats - a no-nonsense kitty lady. With her help, our house was better managed. She trained all the new cats on what the laws were.

One time she actually hit Dobby. We had our Christmas tree up, and Dobby, standing on the couch arm, was getting ready to leap into the tree. Peppermint got up from her snooze to smack Dobby, effectively stopping her from actually getting to the tree. While she would act like she didn't like or want anything to do with any new cats in the house, she was very loving towards them in her own way. They followed her lead, letting her have the top pecking order spot.

When we first got Peppermint, she refused to eat regular cat food. She turned her nose up at it and would only eat people food, table scraps, and meat. It took us a good year and a half to get her to eat cat food. She grew accustomed to it, but always had the urge for some good people food—specifically steak. As she got to her final years in life, her diet reverted back to people food. I would make chicken or steak for her daily, and that's what she would eat.

She was as deaf as a brick wall, but man, could she hear/sense when you opened the fridge or freezer door. Anytime you opened one of the doors, she expected to be given her meat. Every holiday, party, or mealtime, she would conveniently find her way to the kitchen, switching from patiently watching to snoozing, knowing that she would be getting her own plate of food. Many times, she would end up with the cutting board—the best part—full of drippings and little bits of meat. If she wanted food and no one was around to give it to her, she would yell—loudly with her piercing meow—to fill her plate (aka drop the food right on the floor!). There is a huge hole in my kitchen without her constantly by my side.

I always said that we had a special bond—and a strong one at that. I can't even put into words the bond or what it is that made it that special. But she was a huge piece of me in so many ways. She was the best cuddler, finding the right nook to curl up as close to my body as catly possible.

One thing she was good at doing was mousing. In her later years, she did less and less of that. Not to worry, as she did make sure that we have at least one good mouser left, even if the new mouser is a little lazy about hunting them.

I have so many fond memories of Peppermint and all the cute things she would do and what a great companion she was. There would be no way to replace her, but I sure do miss her and still cry.

She has a seat in my car. I keep a picture of her on my dashboard, so she's with me every day, everywhere I go. Her ashes stay on the headboard, so she sleeps with me every night just like she used to.

Till our tails cross again,

Melanie

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