3/21/2003 - 5/23/2020It was my spouse Leslie who coaxed the stray little tabby from the backyard into the house, in 2003, and from that day on, she was Mom’s Cat.

KitKat took a place in our family feline hierarchy underneath senior Trilby, and we always called KK “the kitten,” even as she aged to 5, then 10, then 15.

Last July, after Trilby’s exceptional run ended at age 23, KitKat finally was Queen of the House. She reigned elegantly and affectionately, pleased to see Meredyth and Tyler when they visited, up for a chin-scratch from me, but plainly happiest when on Mom’s lap, or by her pillow, or with her playing toy mouse/toy fish toss. This spring, KitKat topped 17, becoming our second-oldest cat ever, in 35 years of marriage.

Long ago, KitKat was diagnosed with a heart murmur, leading us to expect that someday she’d go quickly from a cardiac event. As it turned out, her decline was more gradual — caused by some damn slow growth in her belly, inoperable for a cat of her age.

The only positive in that — during this bleak and uncertain year, we look for anything positive — is that we had weeks of time to scratch her chin, feed her treats, observe Mother’s Day (of course), take her out for a sit in the sun, say goodbye, and usher her quietly to the end, which came today, on the porch at home, just after 5pm.

We celebrate, albeit sadly, the long and loving life of our dear KitKat, a part of our family from 2003 to 2020, and always in our hearts.
Phil DuncanFalls Church, VirginiaMay 24, 2020
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