Twenty years ago, you showed up at the office of Heritage Square Townhomes. Tiny and scraggly, we figured you were after Goober’s (the office cat’s) food.

We were wrong. You were after Goober.

Feral and impossible to catch, you had litter after litter (hence your name, MamaKitty), and we scrambled to find homes for all the kittens while still trying to figure out how to catch you.

The last litter you had belonged to Goober (we were finally successful in taking him to get fixed), and he rarely left your side. He was so proud of his little family!

My bedroom window overlooked the front porch of the office. One morning, as I watched you nurse your kittens, Goober left your side to pounce on a baby snake in the grass. He brought it up to the porch and set it down next to you. You were clearly busy, but watched with amusement as the snake slithered around. Time and again, Goober would let it get a couple feet away before fetching it back. This snake was not a meal (and would not die that day), but was merely entertainment for you as you fed your babies. He loved you.

And you loved him. It was that love that drew you inside the office long enough for me to catch you and take you to the vet. You got your shots and we had you fixed. And that was the last time for a LONG time that you let a human touch you.

You stayed outside for years, but would venture into the office just long enough to lure Goober to follow you on Adventure Quests. These usually involved crossing busy roads, and I was always worried about the two of you.

You were a regular visitor for so long that when you didn’t show up one day, we thought the worst. Goober went searching for you. After a couple days, one of the maintenance men heard a noise in the wall while working on a vacant townhome. He quickly realized that when he had sealed an exterior hole by the front door (we were constantly battling critter invasions… squirrels, possums, rats and skunks!), you were inside! He tore open the hole and you came shooting out, heading straight for the office where we kept your bowls of food and water.

After that, you stayed primarily in the backyard of two or three specific townhomes at night, but came to the office each day. You became more and more comfortable with staying inside. But you still didn’t let us touch you. If we made a move, you bolted away as if we intended to uncharacteristically drop kick you across the parking lot.

But boy did you love Goober. You pined for him if there was a door between you. You gave him baths until he would eventually get annoyed and smack you away. You would stand over him, giving him lengthy massages, becoming so engaged that you drooled on him in the process. Yours was a love story for the ages. ❤️

Twelve years passed and our Goober was diagnosed with cancer. He lived another year, and you never left his side.

On the day we said goodbye to Goober, I worried that you may run away and never return. After all, he was the only reason you stayed around all those years.

When we returned from the vet, we placed the towel we carried him in on the chair in the corner. You hopped up and laid on that towel for the next three days. It was heartbreaking.

After your period of mourning, you hopped off the chair and came across the office and jumped onto my desk. Nudging your head against me. You allowed me to pet you! I still couldn’t make a move to actually hold you (that would take another few months), but you were content to live inside the office and love on any human who came in. When you weren’t sleeping in your pumpkin, you spent your days curled up on my desk, and would “make biscuits” on my arm so aggressively that I had scars from your sharp little claws.

Residents who never knew you were around now recognized you as a regular feature. A “greeter” to new residents, and the “watch-kitty” as current residents would drop their rent in the night slot.

MamaKitty was now the official Office Kitty.

The pandemic of 2020 found us all working from home. So for a full year, you occupied what had been my daughter’s room before she left for college. In your private suite you spent your days perched on the bed with a full view of the backyard and all its wildlife. Your landscape resembled a frozen tundra during the freeze of 2021. And after I retired in 2022, you became a permanent member of our kitty household.

At 20 years old, you had your routine: Eat, drink, pee, poop, sleep. And you punctuated that with short bouts in front of the window, making sure the birds were still there. But you had begun to show signs of age. We were having to bathe and brush you to keep you clean, and arthritis had set in. You had been deaf for years, but now you spent a good portion of the day yelling at us.

And although you still purred when I rubbed your head, on the morning of June 8, you let me know it was time to say goodbye.

The vet came to the house and I held your head in my hand as you drifted to sleep. More comfortable than I had seen you in over a year. And as heartbreaking as the day was, a summer storm left behind a vibrant double rainbow, and I knew you had crossed the bridge and were reunited once again with your beloved Goober.

RIP MamaKitty 🐾💔