COOKIE

Cookie has been my “special girl” since we first met 16 years ago tonight.

Cookie her first week with me.

I had gone out in the back yard of our other house to take out the trash when I heard a “meow.” It was a small sound - either a normal “meow” from a cat somewhere around one of the adjoining houses, or the “meow” of a kitten, nearby.

Another from her first week.

I stopped and listened, and heard it again. I couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from, but it was a meow full of the emotional tone of “Help!”

Cookie at three months when her eyes changed to golden

After listening unsuccessfully another few minutes, I went back to the house and called to Jurate to come out. I told her what I’d heard. I told her to go over to the other side of the yard to listen; perhaps we could triangulate and find the source.

Four months old, playing in the sink

She did. We listened and heard it again. I pointed towards the house to the north of us. Jurate pointed at our house. The sound lines we described crossed over the collection of garden pots across the driveway.

Cookie at one year

I went over to the pile and listened. I heard it again, much closer. Coming from in the pile.

Playing in the shopping bags

I went over and looked and saw a small dark something move among the pots. I reached down into the pots, and suddenly something furry was in my hand. I hadn’t grabbed anything - the something had jumped into my hand.

Four years old, with the stuffed “Cookies”

When I pulled my hand out of the pots, there was a tiny black kitten sitting in my palm. The kitten looked at me and meowed again.

Cookie age 3 with her buddy Robyn, who moved in a month after Cookie arrived

I brought it close to me as I headed toward the house, and the kitten curled up in my hand. This was no feral, this was no stray. This was a domesticated kitten. How did it get here?

Cookie age 6

Inside, I put the kitten on the table. It was a beautiful shiny black, with blue eyes. It was the size of a 5-6 week old kitten. How did it get in our yard?

I got a can of cat food and put half of it in a bowl. The kitten gobbled it hungrily. Finished, it looked up and meowed, asking for more. I gave it the rest of the can and it ate all of the food.

It’s all mine! Danny watches Cookie take over the crunchies can

I picked the kitten up - there was no resistance, no fear. I did an examination and didn’t find any genitalia, so I decided it was likely it was a she.

We went into the living room with the kitten. I saw down to watch TV and put the kitten in my lap. She crawled up on my chest, curled up and started purring. She stayed there the hour we watched the show.

Cookie (lower) and Danny playing

Our other cats had come sniffing around the stranger. Nobody acted upset by her presence. I decided though that I would take her with me to bed so she could get some sleep without being bothered by the others. The kitten liked that idea. She curled up on my chest and purred. She fell asleep and stayed there all night.

The next morning Jurate asked if we should ask around the neighbors to see if anyone had lost a kitten. I said no. I said if a kitten this young had run away from where she was being kept, it was because she didn’t want to be there. In truth, I had fallen for her and wasn’t interested in giving her back to anyone.

I took her to our vet. He agreed this was a kitten that had been born domestic. She was in good health. He estimated her age at six weeks.

Cookie in the planter basket

I’ve never been able to figure out how a six week old kitten got over, under or around the fence and into our yard. How she ended up in the planter pots has always been a mystery. I decided long ago it meant we were supposed to be together. I’ve always been a sucker for little black cats. She has a very distinctive face - the vet said she’d never seen a cat like Cookie before. I’ve identified her as a Bombay - a very unique breed, a combination of American Shorthair and Burmese. It makes it even more mysterious how a rare and fairly expensive kitten showed up in my yard.

Cookie on the couch

Cookie and I have had a very close relationship ever since. For many years, she slept on my chest every night. When the old kitties died, and she was finally left with the “new” kitties, becoming the “old” kitty, she started keeping to herself, up on top of book shelves; she wouldn’t come to me at night. When I got the cat trees, she occupied the highest spots. Roscoe became a bit of a bully with her, which I have corrected him on when he does that.

Cookie and the spider plant

Cookie is showing her age now. 16 is pretty old for little black cats in my experience. I’ve taken to getting her down from her perch and bringing her in my bedroom at night. She’s now regularly sleeping up on the pillow beside my head.

The two of us

I think this is her final year, but I also keep hoping that my Mystery Kitty will continue to be mysterious, and she’ll stay as long as she wants.

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