My mother's arthritis was much worse. My father was beginning to show the first signs of both his post polio syndrome and the alzheimer's in such a way that I knew they were more than just getting older.

I was caregiver for all three; and, at times it was hard to know who was the most cantankerous!

One night, while we had company, Pillsbury wanted to be fed; but, I kept putting her off. When I did finally go into the kitchen, there was Pillsbury eating a loaf of bread
she had torn into!

She lost one of her canines. I suspected that she wasn't seeing as well either because she sometimes missed things when she jumped on them or at them.

Pillsbury seemed to be catching a lot more infections. I was constantly trying to figure out how to pay my mother's, my father's, and Pillsbury's medical bills. I know you understand that Pillsbury was #3 in priority. That hurt. It still hurts today.

One day Pillsbury was lying on my bed; sick; but, I could tell that she would probably recover. I lay down beside her and gently stroked her head. I remember saying "Someday, Pillbaby, you are going to catch one of these things and you won't get better."

But it did not happen that way.

Pillsbury had been feeling good. That night she wanted to go out. I opened the door for her. Then I did some exercises; and, afterwards opened the front door and checked on Pillsbury. She was in the front yard and did not want to come in. I lay down on the couch and dozed off. Sleeping on the couch is, and has long been, a habit of mine.

About one in the morning I woke up. Noticing the clock, I was surprised to see I had been asleep for several hours. I immediately thought of Pillsbury. She had been outside for quite some time now; but, I was not particularly concerned. Sometimes she did stay outside for very long periods of time. It was time that I checked on her though!

The moment I opened the front door I saw her. I knew immediately that she was dead. Lying out there stretched out on her left side, she would not have been lying like that if she were not dead.

I went out and picked her up. There was a lot of dew on the ground and on her coat. She was already cold and stiff. Then I put her on the living room rug. I sat down beside her and petted her over and over.

Then I felt it! Her back was broken! There was a slight indentation in her body, the size of the toe of a man's shoe!

Pillsbury was a wonderful cat; but, she was not a friendly cat. She was wary of anyone other than me or my parents. So I will always wonder what happened that night. Who killed what for me was the most precious little cat there ever was? Her eyesight wasn't very good. Did she come up to them, thinking it was me? Did she try to get away? Did she scratch at the door? Was I too sound asleep to hear her? I will never know!

But she did live for almost 15 years; and, for most of that time, she had a pretty good life. She enriched my life and having her with me got me through some pretty tough times. I loved her then; and, I love her now.

You too Cricket!