This is the third of three photo tributes I have put together for our late and very much lamented Isabelle. The first is here along with the links to other lost friends. And here is the second. I also eulogized her in some detail here.
This is how I think of her most often, asleep or purring in my lap.
She was happiest there.
Or on a shoulder—so happy she would get drooly.
In her last summers we took to letting her join us on the deck.
She loved it and was far too mellow for us to worry about her bolting.
I loved sitting with her by the fire.
Here she is demanding we cancel winter so she can go out.
Which is in character. She could be very demanding.
But she more than earned her keep in lowered blood pressure.
She was also good at doing the writer cat poses.
And the geek cat.
She could be incredibly dignified.
Even when dignity was maybe not the best play.
We called this her “break my heart” pose, as arthritis started gnawing her.
But even stiff and sore and late in life she could sometimes simply sprawl.
This is her “Why are you not sitting on the couch?” face.
I love this picture for the composition that’s it’s doubly painful.
This is the afghan my grandmother was making me when she died.
Every morning after Laura showered she hopped into the tub for reasons.
Waiting in the sun at the top of the stairs for her monkeys.
She loved the western windows on a sunny afternoon.
And the eastern ones in the morning.
When there was no sun at all, there were always blanket forts.
And cat pods.
Or sprawling on the monkeys’ laps.
She often played the centerpiece on the dining room table.
I miss this so much.
My life as cat furniture is a huge a part of who I am.
Both of my special girls are gone now, though Chamomile is helping there.
I miss seeing her “helping” Laura with puzzles.
I miss having her snuggled in her heated bed on my writing chaise.
And most of all on my lap.
This was her “pick me up now face” and how didn’t really matter.
She trusted me to a ridiculous degree. I could carry her anywhere 1 handed.
Which is more or less how this happened.
This is the last picture I took of her, sleeping beside me as she always did.
Perhaps most of all I miss waking up to this face every morning.