Gone but not forgotten: Mystery Josephine.
It was two years ago this month that little Mystery suffered her strokes and was put to sleep.
She was the litter mate of Murder (and they were so named because they came along right around the time I stopped doing my murder mysteries back in the late 90's) -- and she grew into her name. The one who was most scared most quickly, she often disappeared and visitors sometimes didn't even know she existed, as she had her favorite hiding places (including the Logan Square apartment, where she found a way to use the top of the TV to jump to the storage space above the closet to find a basket of old stuffed animals with whom she set up house).
But she did so loved to be combed, and she did so enjoy sleeping right next to Mauler (who shared her markings), and she perfected the stare from afar, looking like she wanted so much to say something but she just couldn't find the way to do so -- which she would often do after she came out at meal time to perch above my shoulder on the couch looking for a small piece of that night's dinner.
My favorite Mystery story was how she was chosen -- she was a rescue kitten at the local PetSmart, one of three that were in the cage on the first day. When we returned to pick one out from that group a day later, one had already been sent back to the vet to die. Although I didn't want any at all (the ferret had just died, and I didn't want to "replace" it) -- we picked Murder first (as she was the gregarious one), but, as we walked away, Mystery got up for the first time in two days and started calling out. And so, it was two cats we took home that day.
Mystery, you most certainly went too soon, and you are missed.
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