Lillis was the sweetest little cat. She was with me from childhood, like a catty sister, bright and loving. At birth she had been the smallest and weakest of the litter, so frail and reluctant to even eat that we were afraid she’d die. That was why we kept her, we simply didn’t think she’d make it if we gave her away.
Three years ago Lillis passed away after having struggled with failing health for a long time. She was old, it was her time, but that didn’t lessen the pain. On the same day that me and Marcus got the keys to our new house, Lillis died peacefully at the vet.
Mother brought the body to be buried here, on this little plot of land we were settling in. The mood was solemn, we were grieving but at the same time everything was strangely beautiful. It was time for a new era.
Me and my mother stood in the kitchen, waiting for Marcus to come home as well. With an odd look on her face mother glanced out into the bright livingroom. It wasn’t yet properly furnished, in fact it was almost empty. She touched my arm and nodded towards to the side. I looked, and flinched so badly I almost dropped what was in my hands. I screamed, loudly, in pure shock.
I saw Lillis, sitting on top of a cabinet. Still I don’t quite know what made me scream, the sight wasn’t scary in any way, but, considering that Lillis in fact was laying dead in a cat cage outside the door, it’s perhaps not so strange.
The moment passed. It wasn’t Lillis any more. There was nothing there but a paper bag.
“I saw her too,” mother said quietly. “Not any more but, you saw her up there too, didn’t you?”
I don’t miss Lillis, because it feels like she is still with us. She’s here, somehow. A part of our family and of this land. Little cat-sister, always loved.