I met Mischief when I first started dating my husband. We were barely out of high school and he was living at his parents’ house. He told me that she was skittish around strangers, but when I visited I sat on the couch, and when she came in to the room and saw me she ran eagerly to the couch and jumped up to the back right behind where I was sitting. I let her sniff my hand and she shoved her head into it to ask for a petting. Being a cat lover I obliged without hesitation as she sat down and purred. My boyfriend was impressed and so were his parents. Sometimes your pet is the best match maker there is.
Mischief was raised by a dog, who was raised by a cat, who was raised by a dog, who was raised by an alley cat.
When my boyfriend and I moved into an apartment together he had to leave his kitty Missy with his parents. I had recently lost my cat to Antifreeze. We missed having a kitty but we weren’t allowed one in the apartment. Yet we pet-sat whenever we could and Missy always greeted me the same as the rest of the family.
A few years later we moved into a house. We had Missy stay with us while my (now husband)’s parents were on vacation. When they came back we decided to keep her. They missed her but technically she was my husband’s cat.
Missy loved to sleep, loved to cuddle, and would play occasionally. She and I would chase each other around the house or play hide and seek. My husband would play mouse with her, and she would fight the sheets when we changed the bed. Every night she would sit on my chest and purr, hoping for some last minute petting, until I fell asleep. She always loved it under the chin. In the morning she’d always be at my feet and when I got up she’d follow me, making noises like Chewbaca (she’d yawn and meow at the same time), all around the house until she got her breakfast. Then she’d cuddle with me before I started my day.
When we were busy Missy would either sit on our homework (and get angry when we moved her or the papers), or force her way into our laps. She preferred my husband’s lap or belly because it’s bigger than mine. Sometimes when we were at the computer she’d sit right on the mouse or the keyboard in front of us. She knew how to get our attention!
Missy used to meow or squeek every time someone touched her until she got used to them. She also used to sit on the window sill and “bark” at the birds and cars. Whenever she saw a noisy or fast car go by she’d rush to the window and “bark”.
If she was outside and we couldn’t hear her meowing at the door, she would throw all her weight on the door (she never hurt herself) and for a 9 pound cat she made a pretty big noise. We could hear that all the way across the house!
Whenever we went out to eat we’d alway be sure to bring back some leftovers for Missy. A few times my husband gave her some leftover steak, all she could eat. Her stomach capacity was amazing. She could down as much steak in one sitting as me! Although she would take a pretty long nap afterward!
Missy didn’t get along well with other cats, which is why she was our only queen of the household. She was very territorial about our yard, but she never lost a fight and she never came back scathed. She never hurt a mouse or a spider, and the only birds or flies she ever killed were the ones that ticked her off. As far as Missy was concerned, she was a people like us.
About a year ago we brought home a large dog. Missy didn’t approve much. The dog liked us but didn’t like being subordinate to the cat. Power struggles, chases, swatting, and stealing each others’ food ensued but Missy was always the queen. The dog got used to it and they started to get along. Eventually despite the occasional tail slap in Missy’s face and Missy biting the dog in the nose or ear, they got along well enough to snuggle on the same couch cushion together and Missy was privileged to wet kisses from the dog (the dog’s tongue being the size of Missy’s head). The dog also learned a few tricks from Missy (good and bad). Sometimes they’d sit at the window together and bark at cars, birds, squirrels, people and other cats.
There are many more stories about Missy. This is just how I knew her. She died because her heart grew too large for her to contain it. Indeed she was the happiest cat I ever knew, purring and cuddling the very day she passed away. She was the toughest fighter I knew as well. The vet said that kittens like her usually live only a year if they’re lucky. Missy lived a good 13 or 14.
Now Missy watches us from whatever heaven she prefers, and rests in peace.
You are forever loved. Rest in peace, Miss Critter.
| Mischief "Missy" |
| J Merriman |