This is my beloved Ann on the day she came to us.  We found her late at night in a parking lot during a terrible ice storm one week before Christmas in 1979.  We already had two cats and didn't want another one.  We attempted to find her owner to no avail, but secretly by the third day I hoped we wouldn't.  I have fallen in love with her.  She looked so sad, missing part of her tail, her upper lip was split and she was so thin her shoulder blades were touching.  By Christmas morning I thought of her as my most precious gift of all.

Over the years we developed quite a bond, and although we always had other cats in the house, she was my favorite.  We nursed her through many troubling illnesses and we were rewarded with a healthy, beautiful cat.  This is her in her favorite sunning spot - the sunporch.  In 1982 she gave birth to a litter of 6 kittens and was the best mother cat there ever was.   She still continued to be my favorite.

She always found a new place to sleep about every two weeks.   One time it was the breakfast bar, so no eating there for the family until she moved on.   Then there was the time she camped out on the toilet.   Good thing we had more than one bathroom in the house.   But eventually she moved on from there, too.

Her official name was Little Orphan Annie  because of the way she came to us but over the years she became just Ann.   When my neice, who was three at the time, came to visit, she called her a bunny, I guess because she was so fluffy.   So that name stuck and we started calling her Bunny, The Bunny, and Bun-Bun.   Secretly I called her Amy, which is the Hebrew name for Beloved, which she truly was.

In 1988,when she was 9-1/2, I discovered a lump on her chest and took her in for a check-up.   The worst news possible:  Mammary cancer.  The vet told me that there was only a 10% chance that she would survive the operation and even l ess odds that the cancer would not return.  That was a chance I had to take.   I put her in God's hands and waited the day in agony for the news from the vet.  Not only did she survive the operation but she was with us another 6 years!   Then she developed another tumor.   Even though she was almost 16 years old I wasn't ready to let her go yet.   I trusted the Lord once more that He would get her through surgery.   Although the operation was successful, the cancer had spread to her lungs and we knew we would be parting soon.   She died on a Sunday morning one week before Mother's Day in 1995, on the most painfully beautiful spring morning I had ever seen.

Two years after her death I got a call from my husband.   His boss, who raised Jack Russell Terriers, had a puppy that no one wanted because she was the runt and also was the short-legged variety,   Did I want her?, he asked.   I was afraid to fall in love with another pet, it had been so painful to lose Ann.   But I went to the shop to see this little handful of fur and to my surprise, on her side was a perfect heart and above that was a perfect cat paw print - the only sign I needed that Ann approved.   Many years later, Katie, the Jack Russell Terror, I mean Terrier, is in our home and in our hearts.   When I look at Katie's side I think that Ann is saying, "That's okay, Mom, go ahead and love Katie and don't be lonely.  We'll all be together one day.  I left my promise on her."

Every night before I went to sleep I would kiss her and tell her, "See you in the morning, Beautiful."

Rest now, my beautiful girl.   I'll see you in the morning....