When I first met Snatch five years ago she seemed like yet another one of those fussy “don’t touch me” prissy-cats. Any attempt to pick her up was met with a long “yeowwwwwl” of protest, so I figured she was just window dressing. Then we got to know each other, and I found that it was okay to not pick her up, to let her have her space. She figured out that my lap was a nice, warm place to rest and purr, and soon enough we became friends. During the years that we lived together, I increasingly played the role of defender, threatening Tomas when he would get out of hand, making sure that Snatch had easy passage to her food, and maintaining some of her Tomas-inaccessible hiding spots. After Tomas was gone, though, I realized that the two of them, while certainly not friends, did often exist in some state of agreement. I think that was more due to Snatch’s easy nature than anything else. She was a charmer, a princess and a companion. I will miss her dearly.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I will miss her too!
such a sweet, pretty cat. I’m very sorry she’s gone and send my love to you both.
She was such a petite little kitty with a good disposition. I’m sorry for your loss of both Tomas and Snatch.
She was a sweetie. Warm fluffy white hugs to you and Rachel.
I’m so sorry for your and Rachel’s loss, and the adjustment to a kitty-free home. It must seem very lonely now. Beautiful picture and blog post.
I miss Snatch. As others have already noted, the immediate impression she gave was all about her striking good looks. Ultimately, that wouldn’t have meant much if she didn’t have charm, sweetness and a healthy dose of sassy Snatchleen attitude. This winning combo makes her a cat for the ages.
I recall on more than one occasion watching her goad a semi-sleeping Tomas into action — a scene practically worthy of a cartoon, not unlike Jaq and Gus-Gus teasing Lucifer. or Road Runner pestering Wile E. Of course, once he was roused into bully mode, she was already gone, lickety-split, having pre-planned her escape. She was also amusingly adept at flashing him a sassy wag of her Snatch ass.
Of course it’s true that she didn’t much brook with being held; she preferred to call the shots about intimacy, choosing when to leap into your lap for a cuddle or a snooze. I am pleased to recall that I was, upon (rare) occasion, the beneficiary of such affection. And I will never forget one Halloween/Pumpkinfest, when Madame Medusa decided that the pretty white kitty would make the purrfect accessory, scooping her up into villainous arms. Sweet Snatch actually indulged this semi-indignity for about two minutes before escaping the crazy lady’s clutches. (Thanks, Snatch!)
“… a sassy wag of her Snatch ass”! So fitting. Snatch was always presenting said snatchass to anyone who would scratch that itch just in front of her tail. It was very cute.
Thank you everyone for your kind thoughts. Still going through some kitty withdrawal every time I arrive home and no one is there to greet me/attempt escape.