Victoria Ashley was our beautiful big Maine Coon cat. Kitty got her for her birthday around 16 or 17 years ago. I paid exactly $1 for her, from a lady who had a farm in Gansevoort. Granted: we already had a cat (or 2!) but Kitty insisted a kitten was all she wanted for her birthday, so I acquiesced.
Kitty treated that kitten like a princess from day one. She was sequestered in her room until the other cats got used to her. So she slept with Kitty, played on her bed with her toys, and when it was nap time Kitty would cover her with a baby blanket (didn't want her to catch a chill from the air conditioning!), put on classical music and Victoria slept like royalty.
So it's no wonder that Vicky-Toria was the most chill, Zen cat I had ever known. And we loved her. Even though at heart she was a sour patch cat. For instance, she would jump up on the coffee table, walk across it knocking almost everything down: and then come up to you to bump her little knotty head against you to show she loved you.
She was a quirky girl too. She liked to sit behind the floor fan and meow into it so her voice vibrated. She loved boxes and would try to squeeze her 21 pound body into it, no matter how much overhang she had. If she couldn't find a box, she would put her paws into a plastic bag if she could find one. If you were sleeping and she had something to say: she would come up to you and meow at the top of her lungs to ensure she scared the daylights out of you.
But at the end of the day she was a loving cat who got a raw deal. Hyperthyroidism and cancer took our girl. She will not be replaced. Lilly will miss her the most and is mourning the loss of her friend of 6 years. Vivian never developed a relationship with her but will miss eating her food when she could get to it. I will miss her loud purr and her big self in my lap on her terms.
There's so much more, but it's a bit painful and fresh. Grammy loves you Victoria. Say hi to Pumpkin and Luna for me 💖💖
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