It makes me sad to think of it. And Anne Elisabeth always gets a little bit weepy too. I just don't have the heart to continue my bid for world-domination on this day.
Two years ago, we had all moved into an apartment together, just Anne Elisabeth, Marilla, Molly and me. It was a bit snug.
I, being the youngest, was given the smallest room. Naturally. And Marilla, as the oldest, got the best, most spacious room above the rest of us!
But, you know, we were happy! We had windows to look out of, lots of love from our servant, Anne Elisabeth, food and comfort. A kitty couldn't ask for more! Not even a reigning monarch like Marilla.
And then, one day, Marilla stopped eating.
She had been sick ever since I knew her, taking daily doses of three different medicines (that Anne Elisabeth really couldn't afford but bought anyway). Nevertheless, she always had a good appetite! And she was always very dignified and very busy. When Anne Elisabeth put up my first ever Christmas tree, Marilla was the one who taught me how to swipe sparkly balls off its branches and bat them across the living room and into the kitchen.
But one day, she stopped eating. And she stopped stealing Christmas balls.
Anne Elisabeth pretended not to notice. Or rather, she noticed, but pretended nothing was wrong. She said, "Marilla, don't be such a picky eater!" and pulled out all the fanciest wet foods, putting it on her finger and holding it up so that Marilla would lick it. Molly and I weren't allowed any of it! It was all for Marilla.
And Marilla purred, and she licked. But she couldn't eat anything.
Finally, two days later, Anne Elisabeth showered and put on her makeup as usual. As usual, Marilla helped her, sitting on the counter and offering advice as she had done (or so I am told) since Anne Elisabeth was twelve years old. Then, Anne Elisabeth got out the cat carrier, told Marilla, "Say good bye to your sisters! You'll see them again later today, okay?"
"Bye, Marilla!" I said with a flick of my tail.
But she was too weak to speak.
They left. Molly and I sat in the window and watched. Anne Elisabeth came home soon after and sat with her cell-phone by her all day. She didn't work on her silly computer, writing her silly stories. She didn't do much of anything but wait by the phone.
And then the phone rang. Anne Elisabeth answered. Then she started crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked Molly, confused. It wasn't like Anne Elisabeth to act this way.
Molly looked at me very seriously. And it is difficult for Molly to be very serious, so I took her seriously when she did so. "I don't think Marilla is coming home," Molly said.
A few hours later, a friend came and picked up Anne Elisabeth. I think she went to the vet to say good bye to Marilla for the last time. She had been refusing and refusing to believe that anything was really wrong with our Queen Cat, so I think she was more surprised than she maybe should have been.
She stayed with her friend (Allison. I like Allison! And I like her husband, Chris, who always asks me when he sees, 'Hey, Minerva, do you want to come home with me and be my kitty?' I don't, but I appreciate the sentiment). Anyway, Anne Elisabeth stayed overnight with Allison and didn't come home until early the next morning. She cried all day and didn't sleep much that night.
And that was the Bad Time. When Marilla left us. Molly and I did our best to comfort Anne Elisabeth, and Molly even took over the duties of sleeping on Anne Elisabeth's bed with her at night so that she wouldn't be lonely or cold. I think our girl was glad to have us. I think we did make a difference.
But we couldn't make up for Marilla's going. Anne Elisabeth still cries for her now and then. It's a bit distressing to know what to do! But all the purrs and furriness in the world can't make up for the loss of a childhood best friend, I guess.
I miss you too, Marilla. Even two years later. You were a great queen, a powerful ruler, and a mighty inspiration to aspiring dictators everywhere.