|Frances with our farm in the background.|
Our 18 year old brown tabby Frances made her transition today. She and her brother Columbus have traveled many miles with me. They came to us as "barn cats" when we had our farm. They were not allowed in the house as my ex husband was very allergic to cats. Frances was the prettiest kitten I have ever had. She would be an indicator and a messenger for me and my kids.
As the marriage was ending, and I was becoming more and more desperate for safety in my own home. I used to use Frances and Columbus as "Cat Irons" holding them upside down by their legs and ironing my very allergic husband's pants and shirts with their dander. The beast would put on his clean golf shirt and start to sneeze. "There must be cat somewhere!" He would exclaim, and storm out of the house. I would smile the smile of the just when he left. Eventually, he would be asked to leave with a court order, and Frances, Columbus, and others were allowed in the house. It was a joyous day to have kitties sleeping on our beds again.
|Frances in better days on the deck of my studio.|
|You can see how wide her belly is when she is not pregnant. Maine Coon.|
Frances was really not a social kitty. She was much shyer than her extrovert bro. When I left the farm it was in an ambulance. Orders of protection don't always protect. I never returned, it was too dangerous. I was only allowed 2 cats in my temporary home. When asked which two, I knew Frances and Columbus. Columbus was extraordinary, and no one could find Frances to adopt her. She would only come to us. The 2 cats traveled cross country with me to our new life in one cat carrier to New Mexico. As you know Columbus succumbed to cancer last year. Frances spent his last month sleeping with him in "his box", then howling for days after he passed. I hope they are together again. Thinking they are, gives me great comfort.
|Columbus and Frances days before his leaving us.|
|Where Frances spent her last days.|
Today I let her go. With her goes the last piece of my farm.
Thanks for reading. Each day is a gift. Open now.