 Photo Comments | Home:Brier, WA | [I have a diary!] | Sex: Female Weight: 7 lbs.
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Leave a treat for Brooksie (in loving memory)

Kitty Complexion:
  |  |  |  |  |  | | | Activeness | | | | | | Intelligence | | | | | | Curiosity | | | | | | Friendliness | | | | | | Vocal | | | |
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 Quick Bio:
 Likes: Warm laps, the short couch, the long couch, the bed

Pet-Peeves: Prolonged petting, other cats

Favorite Toy: She's an older girl

Favorite Nap Spot: The whole world; anything cushy and within walking distance

Favorite Food: She loves a good bargain on dry bagged food

Arrival Story: My sister was at cross-country practice while in high school; they ran through Wright Park in Tacoma for many practice days. One of her teammates, a girl named Brooks, found a helpless, tiny little kitten. Tiger, Bingo, and Pokey had already gone to their reward, and our mom's house was catless -- so Brooksie came home to live my mom and my sister. My sister has gone on to prep school, college, and grad school, and Brooksie has persevered. You could say she has post-graduate-level research completed in the best sleep spots around my mom's house. My mom even slips and calls her "my" cat once in a great while, rather than "your sister's cat." That's once in a *great* while.

Bio: Brooksie only weighed a pound when she was found. She's grown tall and beautiful, and has perfectly placed brown and black patches over her shoulders and hips. When we were watching her eat one night, my sister sighed and said "look at how perfectly symmetrical her colored spots are. I should have named her 'bikini'."

Forums Motto: Pet me! Pet me! Ha! Gotcha!

I've Been On Catster Since:
| June 26th 2005 |
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More than 6 years! |

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id: 162625

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November 3rd 2005 1:48 pm
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Brooksie was a little bit nuts. Lots of cats are, and she probably didn't really stand out from the crowd that way. But, honestly, no one in the house was ever truly safe from the elbows down. We all caught a nasty scratch or bite once or twice. She was a sweet girl, but when she'd had enough petting, she'd had enough.
For the longest time, she held sway over the living room couches and the window sills in my mom's bedroom. For a little over 16 years, in fact. She had her routes around the house well established. As she got a little older and slowed down a bit, there were times when she needed an extra boost to make it up to the couches, but she was always good for nuzzling and head butting and gentle purring.
One of the neatest things about her was the off hand way she had with what life threw at her. Most cats meow pretty feverishly at some point during the day--they're hungry, they're bored, they're overdue for fresh air or just glad to see you. Brooksie would get pretty enthusiastic about certain table scraps, but usually she was the most demure of cats. She'd see you, stand up, stretch, and meow almost absent-mindedly to acknowledge your presence in the room. She was like a grandfather wandering into a room, forgetting what he was doing, scratching his ribs with both hands and saying "oh, boy" to no one in particular. Lots of times she'd meow a hello with just a blink or a duck of the head. The cat abides, she seemed to be saying.
Yesterday was tough on my mom. She had to put Brooksie down because the vet bills were starting to pile up too fast and, realistically, Brooksie was getting pretty close to the end of her natural life as it was. Walking around the vet's office, Brooksie hissed at a charcoal portrait of a group of cats. A loner to the end, she, putting even drawings of other cats in their place. She was not quick to succumb to the sedative, but she was in loving hands right until the end, and she got lots of attention pretty much every day. Best of all, for the last couple weeks, she got to eat rich wet food for her regular diet. She took a lot of comfort in a good plate of food, that one.
We'll definitely miss her. I for one will particularly miss her galloping up and down the hall, running into the middle of the room, meowing, and running back the other direction. For ten or fifteen minutes at a stretch. All without catnip! She was living proof that you can have a ball doing *anything* if you're not afraid to look a little silly.
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See all diary entries for Brooksie (in loving memory) |