My heart was broken Thanksgiving night when I found our Nite girl dead on her brown bed in the garage. Our son Paul found her downtown and walked home with her. This was some 15-1/2 years ago. We tried to find an owner and finally had her spayed and got her shots. Nite liked hymns and if you sang she'd come and sit on your lap and snuggle your face. When Paul's brother brought home a rescue dog Nite, being an indoor-outdoor cat then, ran away. Paul and I finally took a can of tuna to the patio and started singing hymns. She appeared and he hopped the fence to bring her home. One day I saw Nite cross the street and I told him she'll either be an indoor cat or a dead one. Paul allowed Nite to sleep with him. When he was using the trundle bed it got pushed in while she was on the floor and she got squished against the wall but was unhurt. When Paul returns home and leaves Nite would pine outside his door in anticipation of being allowed in. She could be released outside in the net tunnel. I had a couple of them over her lifetime. Nite was a watchcat and her post was the patio window. She had a different sound for cats, birds, squirrels and raccoons. When she was allowed outside she'd often hunt and find salamanders. She could climb a tree in an instant and was so talented. One day she got a wound from a branch and Paul insisted on a vet visit. When I was told the amount I asked for my cat and brought her home. Michael put Neosporin on it, wrapped her in blue masking tape and she healed on her own just fine. I had many names for Nite: Nite girl, baby girl, bunny rabbit, little Nitey girl, "you miniature black panther." Paul named her Nite and it suited her. We were often asked if she was pregnant because she became a sizeable cat. If you got a phone call she was just like a kid and would come and bug you and try to get in your lap or just sit as close on top of the couch as possible. Nite could be found under the Christmas tree. One time in her crazy moments she was found on the top ledge of the back fireplace in the family room. That was a surprise. She had a habit of coming over and waiting for an invitation to jump up and snuggle on your lap. Nite did not like competition from any other animals and was very territorial. She didn't like being around children either and would wait patiently at the backdoor to be let into the garage. When the coast was clear she'd scratch to be let back in. When she warmed up to someone it was very touching to see her come up to them and show affection. One time in the garage there was a misunderstanding. Her food was on the washer away from the dog and she was eating. The dog was out and I was about to put the food down on the floor for her but she thought I was taking it away and lashed out. I got a scratch on my cheek. Sometimes she'd walk by and hiss for no reason. It's true that I gave her a bath annually in June for a time until it got to be too much to be near-clawed and besides, she was an indoor cat by then. When she did escape Paul has an uncanny ability to lure her to him. Some of her spots to hide were in my closet, behind the TV lamp, under the end table by the computer, or just sit on the stuffed rocker. Nite has been such a good cat and such a comfort through surgery, death and more health issues. She used up her nine lives and then some. She lost her fur, weight and got a growth on her neck, twice in the last couple years. Her fur grew back and she gained weight and both times the growth sloughed off. I have had a picture of her at my desk for years. We have some nice close-ups of her under the tree. Nite's appetite had been off lately. Last week one night while we were squeezed together on the couch by the fireplace heater she suddenly meowed very strangely and I put her in the garage. She stopped eating and drinking. I was able to rub her head and talk to her, then the next morning on Thanksgiving I stooped down and she left her bed and walked away from me a couple yards and started in with the strange meow. That was the last time I saw her alive. I checked her at bedtime Thanksgiving night and she didn't move. I ran inside for a flashlight and found her dead with her eyes open. I've been crying ever since. I called Paul. At 7:30 a.m. the following morning I dug a grave under Paul's window in the patio. I sang We Thank Thee O God For a Prophet and after the burial I said a prayer for her. Paul called and suggested heavy stones over the grave which I thought was a great idea and I found three in the backyard. I have printed on them in permanent marker. I thank God for the decade and half she was our sweet, good cat. My last words to her were, "Happy Thanksgiving Nite. I love you."
On November 19 we arrived early for the Tongan jazz concert and walked around the temple.