11 years ago, I got a cat. She was living in my Uncle Steve's wood shop and he, along with my then-boyfriend Bryan, decided I needed to adopt her. So I did. This long-haired, 6-toed cat with attitude moved into my Browne's Addition apartment and we started getting to know each other. It wasn't a smooth start, but I fell hard for her. And, in time, she did the same. Polydactyl was a sweet little beast.
When Bryan and I got married, she spent our honeymoon with Great Grama Sally and then moved to our Hermiston apartment. She was an indoor cat for several years. Once we moved into our home, she finally got an expanded world and loved the freedom of the outdoors.
Her world was rocked again with the arrival of Mitch. Determined to keep a place in my heart, she followed us around a lot. This is her during Mitchie's first week of life, keeping tabs on her people.
She stayed close, but wasn't all that interested in the little ones we added to the family. Once she hurt Baby Mitchell, but only once.
Still, she wanted attention and found ways to get it. Many early parenthood nights I found myself in bed with Bryan snoring on one side, Mitch attached to me, and Poly curled at my feet. I lay awake and wondered how to get my own bed!
Probably because she was always around, the kids learned to love her, too.
She was tolerant.
Poly joined us outside to play...sometimes.
Other times she preferred to watch from a safe distance.
But, as with all cats, she could be counted on to find inconvenient places to nap - like on my master's homework.
Shannon loved Poly and liked to haul her around and hug her. This was not popular with the poor cat, and even now Shan's face is healing from her final run-in with a cornered cat. However, Poly did snuggle our sick little girl when it was needed.
Moving to Ephrata proved trying for her. She rode with me and the peony - and screeched the whole trip.
Once established at Mom and Dad's, the grandcat made herself at home.
I love this cat. She brought fleas into our home, did battle with neighbor cats and an occasional possum, got her 6 long claws stuck in the carpets and my shirts, and destroyed some upholstery in a big way. But she was the queen of evening affection.
Almost like clockwork, after she had her wet food dinner, Poly climbed onto my lap and would allow herself to be cradled like a child. On her back and purring, she wanted her soft tummy rubbed. No other cat I've had has been so charming. I wish she would come home.
I knew it would happen, and I'm afraid it has. Poly will be the first up-close-and-personal lesson in grieving for our children. As we move on, Shannon's sadness, simply put, is all of ours: "It's not the same without Poly."
