Bessie never really wanted to live with me.
She and her sister were feral street kittens who were terrified of the world. But when their mother disappeared after I’d been seeing them for a few months — leaving the babies alone on my front porch — I had no choice but to bring them inside when it got cold that fall.
For 10 years, she’s reluctantly shared my home. She never lost her feral fear of the world, but she accepted my food and she stole my heart.
There was nothing wrong with Bessie when I got home Tuesday evening. She was impatiently waiting for dinner, just as the rest of the cats were. But by the time I went to feed them dinner, something had happened.
Instead of loudly demanding food — as she did ever night — she laid peacefully in one of her favorite sleeping spots. When she didn’t move, I feared the worst. When I touched her, she was already cold.
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