Smokey came to our house as a tiny kitten twelve years ago. Separated from her mother too young, she had to be bottle fed until she was old enough to eat on her own. We get her (and her sister Shadow) as family pets, but before long she'd decided that I and I alone was her person. It broke my heart to leave her behind when I moved away, but she was not a cat that took well to changes... the stress of living with roomates and strange cats would've been too much for her.

She was a shy, gentle cat who loved routines. Smokey memorized the whole family's schedule and would always be waiting when one of us got home from school. Every night she slept on my bed, but not before we went through all the right steps: brush my teeth, give her fresh water, check the house for ghosts, then turn out the lights. Skip one part and she'd just give a pathetic stare, as if to say "you're doing it wrong!" She was always gentle - never once scratched or bit me - and liked to comfort people when they were upset. She was terrified of strangers and it took her a very long time to warm up to people; some people knew my family for years before they even saw her. She even learned to hide when she heard the doorbell, since people she knew never rang it. Once Smokey finally decided you were a good person she was the most affectionate and loving cat I've ever had. It was very much an honor to have her sit on your lap, because you knew that her trust was not something handed out easily.

Unfortunately Smokey was not a very healthy cat. Over the last two years she got sick, and the vet couldn't tell why. After a recent bout of illness she passed away. I'll always miss her and regret not being able to hold her at the end.