Remembering Ms Mau…

A tribute to Kinko of House Cooney, First of Her Name. Side Eye Sorceress. Only Remaining Sister of the Irretrievably Lost Loki Cooney. Our Beautiful Green-eyed Meowdel, now gone from us over the Rainbow Bridge, but forever the Ruler of our Hearts.

She was the erstwhile Queen of Rancho Groovy™️, Grand Dame of her G-Ma’s LakeHouse, Our Lady of Perpetual Disapproval, the Purrfect Principessa. We called her KITTY, Mizz Mau Mau, Puss in Boots, Lil Purr Purr, Undercover Mau, SUPER COW MAU. Later in life she earned such titles as Cap’n Crumble, Shoutey Singey, and Our Little Mew. Our BELOVED FURBABY, AKA our Favorite Featherweight Floof, the Purrfect Tiny Peep, Fiercest little Lioness, the Wee Beastie, Tiniest Chicken Nugget.

Our Lady of Perpetual Disapproval 😼

She was gifted, as a weeks-old kitten in August 1999, along with her twin sister, Loki, to Susan.

Though her sister eventually disappeared, Kinko stuck by her mama’s side in the bay area and then through many moves, zigzagging across the country like the best jetsetter. When I moved in with Susan 10 years ago, despite severe allergies to cats, there was no question we’d keep her. She’s been our boon companion ever since. When we first took her to the vet, we had to think hard about her actual name, so long had she been called simply Kitty, or any one of her many monikers! While her 4am antics drove us nuts, her frequent snuggles unerringly endeared us, and soon she had me wrapped around her little paws. There was never anything I wouldn’t do for her, and she knew it. Susan and I would travel the world, but looked forward to nothing so much as our homecomings to her.

Though she’d act cool, she low key always wanted to be near her humans. Still, she was a skittish little thing, running for the cover of the nearest furniture at the chime of the doorbell or the sound of men’s deeper voices, bolting from the room at the whir of the vacuum. She was the master of the disapproving smirk, forever the skeptic, and *not exactly* a fan of other furries.

But as her hearing dimmed, her fear of fellow kitties and puppers faded – tho never actually warming to them, we were proud of her newfound willingness to stand her ground! And her social butterfly tendencies among people blossomed – eventually she’d mill about social gatherings amiably, pausing for treats and chin scritches.

She lived for naps in sunny spots, lounging on the lawn, wedging herself into boxes, and, though you’d never expect it of such a tiny thing, snick snacks. She kept shrinking (to, like, half her original weight), but would still greedily gobble every treat offered. And if there was a pile of fallen leaves, paper, or even sun-warmed rocks, she’d plop right down on it. (Pssst: the cat traps really did work!) She picked up on her mamas’ moods, and instinctively knew when to insist on play, or to curl up, purring, against us, offering comfort, distraction and love. There are a million stories of her myriad comic adventures, and uncanny presence, and we cherish every single one.

Is it happy hour yet, Mama?

After several years of seemingly benign renal disease, she took a fairly sudden and extreme turn for the worse – appeared to have a sinus infection, wouldn’t eat for days, dehydrated and anemic – and tragically, it turned out her kidneys had finally just given up. The very kind vet gave her meds to make her comfortable while we tried to come to grips with her decline. Ultimately, we decided it was more selfish to keep her with us than to support her transition. She went peacefully, at home, in the comfort of our arms and surrounded by so much love, on Thursday, 3rd June 2021, 620pm EST.

This has been so difficult – a month later, we’re still processing her loss, still in shock.

We may never recover from losing this tiny ball of love we were so lucky to parent for almost 22 years. We will probably never stop listening for the pitter patter of her paws, or her chatty mews, beckoning to us. Our hearts are broken, we are utterly bereft, but we are so grateful for the memories of her purrs and sweet, scritchy-tongued kisses. She will always be our Very Good Girl. Please wish us healing, and her, safe journeys across that rainbow bridge, where we are sure her little haunches no longer ache and she is once again lightheartedly chasing birds and other treasures.

RIP our dear girl. Wishing you peace, love, naps, and footloose frolicking.



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