Annie

Annie and Katya were friends from the start.
The little orange cat, afraid of the big world she’d stumbled upon at the top of a steep, gravel drive off a narrow, winding road--
and the 8-year old girl, a new resident of the old brick farmhouse situated atop that hill.
Miles from nowhere, it seemed they were. And perfectly suited to each other’s company.


Soon, the two traveled as one, exploring together—Annie swaddled in Katya’s woolen shirt, shed as the sunshine warmed the summer mornings. By fall, her accommodations in the barn were upgraded to an accumulation of blankets at the foot of her little girl's bed.

The years flew past, from tea parties to slumber parties to high school graduation—and the now very large orange cat, present always, kept her many secrets, as a best friend should.



Last week, Annie and Katya, now 23, spent their last night together.
Then the quiet orange cat passed on.

We are very fortunate to have a vet who cares for people as tenderly as he cares for their pets.
For the last 2 years, Annie has required shots twice a day for diabetes.
Monday, she began experiencing seizures, and for several days, underwent testing and treatment in his office for what was thought to be encephalitis or a stroke, unrelated to her sugar levels.
When it was clear that she would not recover, he medicated her to prevent further seizing, tube-fed her a substantial meal and released her to us with instructions for “Going Home”.
Our daughter, Katya, arrived home from out of town that evening to be with her friend. Annie died the next morning.