Giving Thanks

Went home for Thanksgiving this weekend.
Charlie came as carry-on, and though she cried pitifully for the entire pre-flight routine business, she seemed to settle down once the plane took off. Maybe she was just so tired from crying...like babies...she cried herself to sleep. I have new appreciation for what it's like to have a temper tantrum throwing child now.
My parents absolutely loved her. My mother promptly stepped into the grandmother spoiling her rotten role: feeding her treats behind my back, buying her new toys, bragging to her friends about how cute she is, criticizing my methods - "Lindz, aren't you going to feed her...see she's hungry."
We had a full house for thanksgiving dinner, and Charlie learned quickly how to coax turkey from the plates of our dinner guests. It's a miracle she wasn't sick everywhere. She's a manipulative one she is.
I have another cat that lives with my parents. Purrsey - little runty grey tabby cat that I grew up with. She's almost 21 years old...same age as my sister. She's been declining these last few years, losing tons of weight (she's always had a thyroid problem, but now...it's a bit shocking).
She and Charlie tolerated eachother fairly well. Poor Charlie wanted to play, and poor Purrsey wanted nothing to do with the little whippershapper. There were a couple of instances where Charlie got too close and Purrsey growled a reprimand. So then Charlie took to stalking Purrsey around the house, and jumping out to scare her. Then she'd get scared herself and dart backwards out of the reach of Purrsey's claws.
It was really sad though to see the two of them side by side. Charlie is the picture of youth: so healthy and chubby and solid, with sparkling eyes and a shiny shiny coat. Her body is like an elastic band - jumping and darting about, turning sommersaults and playing with anything and everything. Purrsey on the other hand can only be described as an old lady: frail and painfully thin, she moves so slowly and her joints audibly creak. Her fur is not so grey any more, it's somewhat brown around the edges, and kind of dishevelled and dull. Her eyes, still green as always are somewhat bloodshot now.
I came upon Purrsey on my parent's bed one night, and sat with her and stroked her fur. And I started to cry, in the dark, just sitting with my cat. Part of me thinks that my parents should put her down...she just looks so frail. But then she doesn't seem to be in any pain.
She is the best cat...truly. When I was little I used to dress her up in doll clothes, complete with bonnet, and carry her around like a baby. When Maverick, the black lab, came she took complete control of that situation. She used to sit on the counter in the kitchen with her tail over the edge flicking it back and forth, tempting him to check it out. And when he inevitably did she would whirl around and smack him across the face. Or she would tempt him to chase her around the backyard...great fun for the both of them, until Purrsey decided that enough was enough...and then she would stop dead in her tracks...and he would practically do a sommersault trying to avoid bowling her over, and she would whirl around and smack him across the face. But the funny thing is that he was really protective of her. Stray cats would make their way into our back yard, and because she was so runty, she was a prime target. Maverick would always run to her defence, chasing away the stray. She used to like to sleep in bed with you, either under the covers or right on your chest. She'd like to wake up early, and wake you up too. She'd put one of her paws right on your eyelid. Then withdraw it and wait. Then if that didn't work she would put her paw on your eyelid and slowly extend her claws. Then when you'd open your eyes, she'd look at you as if to say..."who me??"
We had to put Maverick down a year ago...she came before him, and she's survived him now. I think she's lonely...maybe she misses him a bit. Part of me wonders if her death will also sort of close the book on my childhood.
But she was the best cat. A total bitch...with tons of attitude...but with a motor of a purr and unlimited affection for those she respects. She is the best cat.