Sumi was an extraordinary cat. She taught me how to play fetch. She was Seuss’s best friend and mommy to Peaches. She was very affectionate towards me. And she could purr her way into everyone’s heart.
It has been one year, and I still miss her.
The following is my remembrance from last year on the day that Sumi passed away.
Every morning at 4 am, Sumi hops onto the bed, uses my legs as a catwalk, and settles herself on my chest, purring (and sometimes drooling) over my face. She meows when she sees movement. “It’s time to eat,” she declares. She has done this for years.
But not today.
This morning, Sumi passed away. She was 13.
From that first day I held her in my arms to her last days at home, she was my shadow. Sumi knew when I was sad or sick and looked after me. She tucked me in bed every night. She knows how to get attention from the humans around her. She reminded me that every day is a special day. I didn’t rescue her from that garage in Pearl City over 12 years ago; she rescued me.
I will miss her tremendously. She has left her paw prints on my heart.