My Pretty Little Girl with the Dirty Face
	From the first time I saw Spooky as a 6 week old baby, I fell in love with her beautiful face complete with smudges. Such a tiny little fur person with a personality that was ten times the size of her! She and her brother entered my life in the middle of May, 1988. Although Smokey was 3 times the size of Spooky, she would tolerate no nonsense from him. I remember the first day I brought them home. After I showed them the location of the litter box and their food bowls, they spent the evening under the sofa. At bedtime, I fished them out from under the sofa and placed them in the kitty bed them beside my own bed. The next morning, I woke up to this little face beside my head on the bed, looking at me pointedly and saying, "Meow. Can we get up now?" How this little tiny being managed to get up on the bed is beyond me. But that was Spooky's spot for the rest of her life. She always slept on the pillow beside my head. Thus began a love affair that continued for almost 14 years.
	Spooky and Smokey were my constant and faithful companions putting up with frequent moves, sometimes being outdoor kitties, sometimes indoor kitties. They tolerated the moves relatively well seeing each new home as an adventure. However, they do not like riding and complained long, loud and clear! Spooky was a very inquisative and loved to steal pens and pencils. Happiness for her was an open briefcase with unlimited access to pens and pencils.
	In 1997, we moved to Taos, NM. Radical changes were to enter our lives with this move along with many adjustments. The first adjustment was living in a very small space, namely a 29ft travel trailer. That went well and soon the kitties had their favorite spots for sunning and sleeping. The next change was the adoption of two puppies which eventually led to 4 of the canine variety sharing the tiny space with us. Eventually, the dogs and cats learned to tolerated each other and even shared space on the sofa sometimes.
Shortly after moving to Taos, Spooky got sick. She started losing weight and stopped washing herself. After a couple of trips to the vet and many blood tests, Spooky was diagnosed with Feline Diabetes. I was devastated. My pretty little girl was dying. With the support of my good friends, Marilyn and Bren, I decided to do everything I could to keep her comfortable and as healthy as possible until she made the decision to die. I learned how to administer insulin shots, and we spent months adjusting dosages of insulin and types of insulin to find the right combination for Spooky. Although we got her relatively stabilized, she never again was really well and I felt that she was just marking time. Her exquisite fur which she used to keep so immaculately groomed was usually greasy and matted. Brushing became torture rather than ecstasy. She started losing weight again and it seemed that every movement was torture for her. She couldn't get enough to drink or enough to eat. Finally, on Friday, Jan.11, 2002, she told me that it was time to go to the hospital. I immediately rushed her to the vet. Spooky was seriously dehydrated and had a massive mouth infection. I think I knew then that her time had come, but I had to give her every opportunity. I helped the vet give her the antibiotic and then get IV fluids started. I put her in the cage and told her, "I'll come get you on Monday and you can come home." I called the vet on Monday morning and he told me that she had died sometime between 7:30 pm and 11:30 pm on Sunday night. Even though she had started to recover medically, she had decided that it was her time to go and that she would only be coming home to be buried. I didn't bring her home on Monday as I promised her. Instead, I went home to prepare a place for her. She always liked laying under bushes near the house when she could, so I dug a grave in the frozen ground in between two lilac bushes. Then, I brought her home. Her burial was attended by 10 dogs who all of a sudden became very quiet and attentive and her brother, Smokey, who watched from the window. Crystal, the one dog who was as close to being her buddy as any of them, kept watch over the grave until it was time to come in the house. A candle beside the grave burned through the night. She is happy, now, and healthy again. Once again, her fur shines and is immaculately groomed and shining. Her eyes are again bright and full of life. She no longer has to endure shots twice a day and the burden of not being well. She is waiting patiently for me at the rainbow bridge.
Good bye, my Spooky. I miss you. You'll always be "my pretty little girl with the dirty face". I love you.
Click her to visit Spooky at The Rainbow Bridge.