In 1975 to 1986 we had the pleasure of a beautiful Chocolate Burmese named Tiki. She and I traveled extensively to the local cat shows where she and her lazy husband won many firsts, never a second, Teek would have none of that. She was an aristocrat and she knew it. Though I groomed both cats carefully every time before they were to stand before the Vet Teek gave her lazy husband Zeb a freshen-up. She never failed. We lost both cats to a cruel person cat baiting in the area, and we mourned for months.

We never got another Burmese as I felt any other would always come a second to a memory of a beautiful friend. And Teek wound not have stood for stand for second. Recently 2002 I was walking down a suburban street in Brisbane when from under a gate strolled Tiki. I stopped and hunkered down and stroked and talked to this unexpected pleasure as the sun lit her beautiful fur and her chest throbbed with purrs.

Suddenly a woman hurried out from the gate and nearly tripped over me. I apologized explaining I was talking to her cat.

"I have no cat," was her stern reply. "No cats are permitted here."

But...' I stammered and looked to where my hand was still stroking the cat. I could see her clearly and feel her warm fur and hear her purring. But no cat lay on the footpath. Silently I stood and walked away the feel of her fur still on my hand. My heart lightened with joy.

Copyright © Anne Ribbons
January 5, 2005