Sabrina "Beanie Butt" Kitty

Four years ago today, my cat Sabrina died.

She was a purebred Siamese that my grandmother adopted when I was little. My grandparents spoiled her to extremes. Her food was always warmed up just so, and that was if she ate out of her dish instead of sharing dinner off my grandparents' plates. People tell me I spoil my cats, but Sabrina was the epitome of princess.

When my grandparents died, my uncle took care of Sabrina. But he works long hours and she found herself alone for most of the day. Cats are strange creatures who often enjoy being by themselves, but when they want attention, they want it now. Sabrina's tactic was to gain attention through barfing all over the house. So she came to live with us.

Sabrina with Earl the Dead Cat, "the last cat you'll ever need."

At that time, we already had our tabbies, Nate and Grace, and our Airedale / Alaskan malamute, Pepper. Sabrina grew up with a Manx named Murphy who was a giant blob of fur she could easily intimidate. But this was a new atmosphere for her altogether and we honestly didn't think things would go well. For a little while, they didn't. But we were surprised to see everything calm down eventually and the cats tolerated each others' existences.

Sabrina and Grace at the only time I ever saw them getting along. I ran and got my camera because this was so bizarre.

Sabrina was a funny cat, though. Being Siamese, she was extremely vocal. To the extent of being severely annoying. "Shut up, Sabrina" was a commonly uttered phrase. But it was always said with a hint of affection. She was also the first cat I ever knew who would perch on my shoulders like a parrot. She balanced herself well enough that I could walk around without her digging her claws into my skin (too badly). As she got older, her senses began to go, her teeth became rotten from all the crap my grandparents fed her and when she got comfortable on someone's lap, she would drool on them as they petted her. It was actually really disgusting. But it still makes me smile to think about.

Sabrina lived to be 16 or 17 years old, which is a ripe old age for a spoiled princess like herself. She must have gotten a case of Kitty Alzheimer's because I've never seen a cat become so senile. We worked with her for a good while but when she started to confuse her food dish for the litter box, we knew it was near the end. I had a hard time coming to terms with euthanising her but it became a matter of not knowing what to expect next. I wouldn't have been surprised to find her drowned in the toilet because she didn't have enough sense to not go in or be able to find a way out. Saying goodbye to her was equally as hard as watching her mind deteriorate. But I know she had a long life surrounded by people who loved her.

It's also funny to me that my tortoiseshell, Cameron, is so similar to Sabrina in personality and mannerisms. I am certain Cameron is part Siamese because of her body build, facial structure and her loud, talkative voice. Cameron will talk to anyone she sees and we lovingly reply, "Okay, Sabrina!" Cameron also does the same sitting-on-shoulders trick, which makes me wonder if the two of them clandestinely got together to conspire on the occasions they'd see one another. But it makes me smile because when I start to miss Sabrina, I can look to Cameron and see a piece of her there.