Polly

 "Please sir, may I have some more?"

That line from "Oliver" seems to describe Ryan's painting of Polly  which he named "Beggar."  Polly was begging for food and attention non-stop. It leaves a terrible silence in the house now that she's gone. 

She was about 16 but so spry we used to say she could fly. She was declawed in front so she couldn't climb up the furniture as the other cats do, but it didn't slow her down.  She was so light, just bird-bones covered with hair, that she just seemed to levitate to the chair, the table, the bed. She misjudged sometimes and went crashing to the floor but that just got her more attention. 

She always slept with me, her head beside mine on the pillow so I could feel her breath and hear her purring as I fell asleep. She even slept on Steve's pillow sometimes. He said he didn't mind. She kept his head warm.  

She started having diarrhea a couple weeks before the election in November. At first I thought it was some table scrap she had eaten but after a week I took her to the vet. She had lost half her body weight and a blood test showed early signs of kidney failure. The doctor seemed to think special food would do the trick but a week later she was so weak that all we could do was hold her and beg for a few days more . 

 

 

 Polly loved to sleep under the Christmas Tree.