This is my baby. Her name is Regina. I found her half-dead on the street when she was about a week old. I fed her cow's milk with a syringe every hour. I don't know how she survived. She was one of the ugliest kittens I had ever seen. She also had a limp leg, she was fat and she was half-bald. I was supposed to give her away, but --thankfully-- nobody wanted her. One day, I went to take a bath, while she was asleep. I knew that if she woke up and I wasn't there, she would start screaming bloody murder, which she did. I was already done bathing, but I stood there clutching the door handle as she screamed. I heard my mom telling me to go feed that thing, but I didn't move. A few moments later, my mom went into my room and I heard her call both me and the kitten names as she tried to feed her and I started to cry because I knew that I had won and my baby was mine.
She grew into the gorgeous cat you can sort of see in the awful picture above. She was a bit grumpy, she growled all the time for no reason and she would smack at us. But despite that, she was an angel of a cat. She had a short temper, but she forgave immediately. She would put up with me dancing with her and throwing her on the air when I was a stupid teenager. She would put up with all those stray kittens I kept rescuing and that wouldn't leave her alone. She would allow me to move while she was sleeping on top of me. She'd let me grab her and kiss her again and again. She would lay on my arm and when she thought I was asleep she would wash me a bit and then she'd go to sleep in the end of the bed. She had the softest fur and we'd pet her and she would relax and drool, but we had to work hard to earn her purr. She was addicted to shadows, milk and ham. She looked and walked like a tiger, but when she smelled milk or ham, she would get the sweetest most innocent look on her face and she would scream too loud, but somehow it wasn't annoying. She never begged for food, she would chirp and decide where she wanted to eat and we had to follow her and feed her. When summer came around, she would bring me presents every single day. She would land on the balcony with a loud thump and cry like her tail had been chopped off. The more she cried, the better the present was and the faster I had to run outside so she wouldn't bring a rat's head and lay it outside my door. It was a nightmare. She was a huge of a drama queen, which was good because we always knew when something was wrong with her.
If anyone made it this far, thank you for it. She left on October 8th and hasn't come back and I don't think she will, either. She was only 10. I'm a college student and I'm going home for Christmas in 2 weeks and I don't know how I'll manage to be there without her... I just want to talk about her all the time, I'm sorry this was so huge.