On Friday April 10^th, 2015 at approximately 11:05 am, we lost our precious little girl Josie to Lymphoma. Josie first arrived in our lives on Christmas Eve 2002. She couldn’t exactly be wrapped, though I later came to learn that she would have been happy to wait the entire night under a Christmas Tree. She was never more excited than when the tree would arrive as she knew the ribbon wouldn’t be far behind.

We don’t know exactly when she was born as she was rescued from the streets by her godparents Sean & Leslie. We believed she was about a year old at the time. We immediately named her Josie, in a tribute to the fact that she was a pussycat.

The first few weeks were a harsh adjustment for all, mainly because we didn’t understand that she was now in charge. There was lots of hissing and gnashing of teeth between her and her adoptive brother Ceasar. He had been with us for a year already and was doing dog like things, such as playing fetch and tug. Josie called her union rep and put an end to that quickly.

Being a lady, she adored bags of all kinds, but especially leather. She took a special interest in high heel shoes, coats and handbags, never missing the opportunity to stick her head in and bask in the scent. Whenever possible she would climb in to get the full experience.

When it came to loving she only had time for David and myself, but in her final months she came to bond with uncle Sheldon who house sat for us while we took a 3 week long journey across the world. By the time we returned, she was regularly jumping on his lap for petting.

Last Tuesday afternoon we first realized that she was sick. She had been laying in one spot all day. What first looked like an infection quickly turned serious and in less than 72 hours we were saying our tearful goodbyes.

The tests revealed that she had an extremely aggressive form of Large Cell Lymphoma and was bordering on multiple organ failure. The cancer was so aggressive that they could see it multiplying on the slide.

We held her through her tightly as she passed from this world and showered her with the love that she had given us for so many years. David wrapped his arms around her and I nuzzled her head ears and head as we did most mornings.

Over the 12 years, 3 months and 17 days she was with us, she was alternately timid and fierce, bitch and lover, adorable and infuriating. She carefully doled out the kisses, with a tiny flick of her tongue and had an adorable way of drinking water that always left her face covered in droplets. Josie is survived by her two daddies Daniel & David and by her adoptive brother Ceasar who all miss her very much.

She loved sunning on the flagstones in the backyard and her favorite times were first thing in the morning where she had her rituals. I’d wake up and there she would be waiting patiently on my nightstand at my side. We would have about 5-10 minutes of petting and nuzzling. When she was done, she would simply stand up and be gone. Sort of a “that’s all!” moment.

Last night, I found myself unconsciously pushing my drinking glass back on the nightstand to make space for her in the morning. But there is no more need for that and it breaks my heart. A hundred times a day I find myself missing the way she greeted me, with her squeaky little meow. She was my precious, my squeak, my angel, my little girl. The one that would checking on me after the shower, to make sure I didn’t drown, the one who would bolt to lay on top of me as soon as I sat back or laid down for the night.

There is no need for me to push my glass anymore, but I’ll probably keep doing it for a while, just to help me remember my precious little girl.