We had a name, Braxton, picked out before the kitten arrived. Brock was in the midst of a stage of his life where he was fascinated by the Civil War and was reading several books on the subject. Braxton Bragg was a C.S.A. general, not necessarily someone I admired, but I really liked the name. Lo and behold, when they came with the kitten, she was a she, not a he. As I mused out loud about choosing a new name, my dad suggested simply altering her name to “Braxtina”. I liked the idea and so we officially had our first pet.
Those early days were fun, as she didn’t seem to know a stranger (she later became choosier about with whom she'd associate). She was playful and friendly, as most kittens are. Since Brock worked retail and I was a substitute teacher (and worked one day a week for Baird and Warner Real Estate), I tended to be home with her more than he did. She and I bonded. I became her person. She was there as I eventually became a full time teacher.
She developed a love/hate (ok, perhaps hate/hate) relationship with my brother, Scott, as he lived with us one summer while completing an internship. She was there in 1996 when I for the first time in my life had to bury a grandparent, my Grandpa Coonrod. In 1997, she was there as I earned my M.Ed. and later that year moved with us from Orland Park to Carlinville. She was there for me in 1998 when I buried my Grandpa Barkley (“Preston”, for whom I named my son). She was still there in 1999 when we suddenly lost my Great Aunt Annie.
She was there in July 2000, when I gave birth to my miracle baby, Preston. She was there through our wildly emotional roller coaster ride of infertility. She was a comfort to me when I buried my Grandma Barkley. She was there as I walked away from the field of education and entered the world of Information Technology. She was there when I buried perhaps my closest grandparent, my Grandma Bloomfield,who was a monumental part of my childhood. She moved with us yet again in 2005,when we arrived in Springfield. In fact, she rode from Carlinville in the U-Haul with her “beloved” Uncle Scott.
She was there as Preston sampled various sports, began his life as a percussionist, and wove his way through elementary and intermediate school. She was there when we decided to adopt a beautiful little 8-year-old girl from China. She was waiting for us at home in January 2011 when we arrived home with that then 9-year-old girl, Shaling.
Through all that and many other life milestones, she outlived 3 other cats and a dog that at one time or another joined our family. A fourth cat, Hula, is still with us. I snuggled with Braxtina through various tornado warnings. She protected me from numerous spiders over the years (by eating them – ewww – gross). She followed me from room-to-room, whether keeping me company as I got dressed, being nosy about what I was cooking, or sitting in my lap while I watched television or surfed the web. She was always there to greet me when I came home. She slept as close to me as she could. She had been on thyroid medicine for sometime, but only truly seemed geriatric the last month or two of her life
We got her when she was approximately six weeks old and we had been married approximately six weeks. Therefore, we have always counted our anniversary, June 18th, as her birthday. She would have been 18-years-old next month. She has virtually mirrored our married life. We’ve buried a cat before. It wasn’t easy, but this is different. So much of our lifetimes have included Braxtina. It is difficult for both of us (I know Brock spent a lot of time talking to her this morning). With all of the sentimentality involved, I don’t want to say it is any more difficult for either of us, but knowing that I was her chosen person makes it unique for me.
Goodbye, “Mommy’s Girl”. You were a great cat. I’ll certainly miss you.
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