Onyx

About an hour after my dad and I buried her this afternoon, I realized that it was exactly 17 years ago today that Onyx came into our lives.  She leaves behind a gaping hole that perhaps only those who have ever loved a pet would really understand. 
I was working at the Humane Society when we adopted Onyx.  You can read that story here.  She loved that first Christmas—those little bows on all the presents were her favorite temptation.  We ended up giving her a few to chase around just so she would leave the presents alone.
   
Gift bags filled with tissue paper were not safe either.  She’d rip the tissue out and then pounce all over it. 
          
But my favorite story about Onyx is from 2001 when I was 38 weeks pregnant with Henry.  I was sitting in the recliner waiting for Jeff to finish Megan’s bath-time.  Onyx came and stood right in front of me and meowed insistently, strangely.  Then she jumped up in my lap and looked me right in the face and did it again like she was warning me about something.  I stroked her on the chin, patted her on the head then put her on the floor.  As I stood up to follow her, I felt a strange popping sensation as my water broke.  I am convinced she knew the baby was coming.  I don’t know how, but she was definitely trying to tell me.
                     

 Over the years, Onyx learned to avoid the children while they were young and played too rough.  As they grew older and more careful, she really enjoyed their affection.  She increasingly spent her time with Megan who loved her immensely and carried her cradled like a baby in her arms.  Megan was her go-to person for treats.
Onyx was always a wonderful cat, and I certainly was not ready to let her go.  Evenings will be hardest.  That’s when she was my cat, sitting as close as possible to me if not in my lap.  She was a treasure, a companion and a comfort.
She was my friend.