Angel Pie

I named Angel Pie when I was 3 and we have been dear friends ever since.  Angel Pie won every battle with a coyote, like the time she stared one down through the glass door, or the time she was in a coyote’s mouth and escaped.

When I was a little kid, whenever we drove someplace, Angel Pie would follow the car down the street and meow for us to come back. Growing up, I worried about Angel Pie and our other beloved cat Hobbs being hit by a car. When I thought in their direction they would come and find me. Angel Pie and I would have sleepovers beneath covers, which she was always fascinated with. Some years ago, when we got a modern couch and there was no arm to sit on, Angel pie leaped and awkwardly sat on Will’s shoulder.

Angel Pie outlived several other friends and last Thanksgiving, in the cadence of a little kid from a 30’s movie I said: “Mama, Angel Pie is immortal right?” She was around 22 when she died.

For the last few days of her life, Angel Pie followed my mom and me around the house, lying down wherever we were. There’s a sublime sort of communication kitties can have with people, Angel Pie had that with us.

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