The Last Cat Standing

     I gave her the name Shady.  Across the street from my house to a neighbor, she ran.  Slowly I began to know this cat was a female.  I patted her at times and even began to rub and pick her up frequently.  But still she was a stray getting food at two houses.  She was the last stray I fed.  I had taken some strays in, but others outside simply disappeared.  Perhaps they had met their demise by humans, other animals, or merely traffic.  My street had become very heavily travelled.  I just knew in time Shady would be hit and killed.  She never watched for cars as she ran without even looking. 
     Finally one day, just before Thanksgiving, 2015, my son opened the door and Shady came inside.  I think Shady never looked back to what she had left outside.  Five cats, once strays, were already living inside.  But now they were house cats.  They seemed to accept Shady without much bickering.  With a nice warm place now to curl up in and fresh food and water, Shady seemed to have no trouble accepting her new life.  Sometimes, I'd catch her in the window looking out, but never a time did she head to the door when open to escape.  She seemed quite content.  I felt good that we had rescued a cat whose life expectancy was two to five years outside.  I figured Shady to be around two to three years old.  But I would find out I was wrong.
     It was about one year to the day that Shady began getting sick.  There was loss of appetite.  There was constant drooling at the mouth.  She had an odor about her that made it obvious that a lot was going on inside her.  I called our vet to have them look at her.  Even though she had been with us only a year, I began to love Shady as much as any other cat living inside with us.  I was prepared to make her better and worry not about the cost.  But one test for feline leukemia had them coming back with a diagnosis that I did not want to hear.  There would be no saving Shady.  She was dying.  She had everything in the world a cat could have wrong with her.  They seemed to be amazed at how long she had lived.  They figured her age must be past ten.
     A long life outside for Shady had me wondering how she had survived so long?  But now the end had come.  Did we indeed add to her life by bringing her inside?  I like to think so.  She was evidently a strong willed cat who fought survival to the end.  There's no telling what she experienced in her lifetime.  She did round off her last year of life knowing the love that a human could give. 
     I loved that little black cat I called Shady.  I will never ever forget her!