At the Humane Society to rescue a kitten or two, “she meowed loudly, began purring, and climbed right up my arm. Once she reached my shoulder, she turned, rubbed her face against mine, meowed with fervent delight, and wrapped her front legs around me in an elated hug. That’s when Derek said, ‘Oh, look who’s gonna be a Daddy’s girl.'”
And she was Daddy’s girl right up to the end.
She never stopped climbing to my shoulders and wrapping around my neck, purring contentedly as she perched there as long as she could.
She never stopped talking to me at every opportunity, though sometimes this took the form of yelling at me.
She never stopped hugging me, whether it be my arm, leg, neck, or whatever other part of my body she could wrap her paws around.
She never stopped grooming me when she felt my appearance wasn’t up to snuff or when she wanted to show affection.
She never stopped playing fetch, always bringing the ball back so I’d throw it one more time. One more time, Daddy. One more time…
She never stopped being the consummate lap cat, hardly waiting for me to sit before she claimed her rightful place.
She never stopped sleeping under the covers with me or on the pillow next to my head, always in close contact, always right there.
She never stopped taking care of me when I didn’t feel my best, giving me all the attention I needed so I’d feel better.
She never stopped being Daddy’s girl, even when age and disease finally began their assault on her. She never stopped being Daddy’s girl even when I had to say goodbye.
She never stopped being Daddy’s girl, and in my mind and heart she never will.
September 1998 – December 2015