I picked her out easily. She was the "runt" of the house. Black with a white underside and a white stripe down the nose and white socks. The first night she spent sleeping with my mom on the couch in Petaluma. I was just 11 years old. She became my best friend. Whenever I was sad she would come keep me company. She used to have a special meow for different animals. Cats, a nasty noise, racoons a worse noise, and birds a sweet musical one that I used to emulate. In the begining she would watch tv with us. Then she started ignoring it. She played with her tail; alwayz trying to catch it. She wanted to sleep wrapped up, either in blankets or between someone's legs. It was safe for her. Her favorite times were when she was snuggled up between me and my mom. She couldn't resist someone rubbing her belly, she had to turn over and get comfortable. She got sick recently, a heart problem. She's started sleeping with me everynight. I set up a separate blanket for her so she wouldn't claw my blankets and sheets. She would sleep right next to me. I love her so much. On the way to the hospital I just wanted to hold her, make her feel better. But she couldn't breathe. She was hurting. I couldn't do anything to help her. At least she's not in pain anymore. But I'm going to miss her so much. No other cat could be more perfect for me. She was vocal, playful, and cuddly. She could read my moods and acted accordingly. She was perfect.