I’ve decided since I was chosen to be a contributor to this site, I’d dedicate my first post to my Siamese cat Lexy.

I got Lexy in 1992. She was born March 17 and she was 6 weeks old when I got her. I was 19 years old. My son was 2. She was his first pet, even though she was mine. I didn’t mind. However, as she got older, Lexy did mind. As a lot of Siamese cats are, Lexy had a lot of “cattitude.” I learned very quickly that she owned me. I didn’t own her. And she wanted attention when SHE wanted attention. If it wasn’t time for her to be loved on, according to her, she’d go into her favorite hiding spot and stay, only coming out on her own terms. But I loved this about her. She was a lot like me. We were bonded, none the less.

Lexy hated the vet and would cry as only a Siamese cat can and would drool everywhere. The vet became her arch nemesis. First came the shots. Then the declaw; she tore me up one day when I took her outside to get photos in natural light to show off her deep blue eyes. I feared having a small child, he’d be next. Then came the frequent visits to the vet for what turned out to be a uterine infection. This led to her being spayed. By now the vet was snubbed whenever she went.

Time seemed to fly by, as it tends to do. I had a second daughter. Then a third. Lexy knew whenever I, or anyone else was pregnant. The cat that hated everyone but me, would jump on the woman’should lap, sniff their belly, then knead it and purr. I’d say “you’re here the tell meveryone you’re having a baby aren’t you?” The looks I’d get! Explaining that Lexy somehow knew was always the main conversation then.

In 2009, after 17 years, almost half of my life, Lexy started going down hill. It was quick. I’d studied to be a vet tech from 99 to 2001 so I knew the symptoms symptoms she was displaying meant that there was nothing that any vet could do. I admit, it took me a couple of days to convince myself I had to call the vet to make the appointment I really didn’t want to. Her time had come.

I had to wait a couple more days to get her into the vet. My heart was broken. I felt as though I was sentencing her to death. I had so many mixed emotions. She loved going out in the sun and chewing on grass. My oldest daughter and I took her out for her final sunbathe. There was no chewing the grass this time. Just a deep breath of fresh air, a few final photos, and a nap in the sun she so loved.

Somehow I think she knew. The cat who’d hated everyone but me came from her favorite spot on a soft pillow, came downstairs and hopped into each of our laps, one by one, sniffing our noses then rubbing her nose against ours. My son built her a beautiful pine casket and when the day came, when I was at the vet, he dug her a grave under the lilac tree in front of my porch. She’d come home to her final resting spot; one of her favorite spots to take in the sun.

I won’t go into the day still fresh in my mind, other than to say it was one of theach hardest days of my life. Lexy was gone and with her, a piece of my heart.

As I finish this, I am in tears. I still miss her as much today as the day she crossed the rainbow bridge. I keep fresh flowers and little nicknacks on her grave and visit it frequently. I find peace in knowing that as my lilac tree blooms every spring, the soil below feeds the tree and those flowers are a part of Lexy. The leaves are a part of Lexy and that the tree itself is now part of my heart.