Our beautiful Istanbul street cat Sophie, who adopted me when I was looking for an apartment in Turkey ten years ago this month, and who proceeded to surprise us when we got her back to the States when the vet declared her pregnant, who could fool anybody into thinking she was a Russian blue worthy of salmon and tuna, but with a strange penchant for olives (Mediterranean legacy), picked today to fail on me. I had finally turned off every distraction and was trying to finish (okay start) some writing project. Between the time I found her upstairs after I heard her moaning, and gone to the basement to find her pet case, she had crawled into a corner of my husband's study to die. I drove with her on my lap to the vet. He later called and said we probably would want to euthanize her tonight, and when we got there a couple hours later, breathing fast and her eyes not blinking, it was clear she was suffering. (Two months ago, she picked the day I was stepping on a plane to the Middle East to get suddenly sick). ... Six kittens born looking exactly like her are scattered in various homes in Martha's Vineyard. She had a nice, "bourgeois" life with us as my Turkish friend calls it, and gave me tremendous pleasure. It's hard to believe ten years have passed. And it's so strange coming home, and expecting to see her on the stairs or at the door, to remember she's not here. I'll miss her.

Posted by Laura at March 6, 2008 05:24 PM