Virginia

2015–2020 — A Eulogy

Virginia is my favorite cat ever.

Virginia was unofficially a therapy cat: if I was upset — whether depressed/weepy or merely yelling at my computer because I have little patience with technology — she started up a thunderous purr, climbed on my lap, lay down, and licked my hands.

She groomed me as though I were a kitten. She’d get in my lap and place a paw on each of my shoulders. She licked my face, especially my chin. Sometimes she’d bite, the way she grooms herself, and I gritted my teeth. Sometimes instead of placing her paws on my shoulders, she perched on my shoulder. In that position, she sometimes attempted to groom my hair and scalp, which again could result in some biting.

Sometimes I woke and found Virginia’s soft fur on my pillow. There she was, curled up on my pillow beside my head and purring the instant I woke.

She enjoyed burrowing under the covers in winter. I’d lift the top sheet and quilt, and she’d slip right in beside me, purring away. One time we’d been in the meditation room with the wall heater on. It warmed up so effectively that I took off my heavy purple sweater. I went upstairs and realized I left my sweater behind, so I went back downstairs and returned to the meditation room. The sweater was there — wrapped around Virginia, who had burrowed into it. I petted her and gently…