Of all my babiest cats, Esperanza was the babiest.

I was living in Silver Lake area of Los Angeles.

I came home to discover that me and my roommate had a new kitten – a mostly white calico (just a few spots here and there of gray and tan).

He had come home and heard a kitten meowing.  He looked and looked and couldn’t’ find the cat.

Then he realized the sound was coming from the exhaust fan over the stove!  He had to take it apart and sure enough, there was a tiny kitten in there.

(All we could figure was that mamma cat was moving her babies across our roof and dropped one or tried to hide the baby.)

Anyhow, we named her Esperanza – Spanish for “hope”.

Off she went to the vet, and I was told she was so young she needed to be bottle fed.  (Her eyes were just open.)

In order to bottle feed her, I needed to bring her to work with me.

Luckily, I had an understanding boss, and during the work day, Esperanza lived in a blanket lined box under my desk and got her feedings every 3 hours or so.

As you can imagine, Esperanza bonded with me.  I was mommy.

And I bonded with her.She was my babiest.

Esperanza was a very determined young lady.

The house in Silver Lake had a fireplace.

I come home one day to a no longer mostly white cat, and pawprints leading away from the fireplace.

Somebody had decided to try her hand at chimney climbing.

And unlike her “sister” Kitsch, Esperanza did not like water and baths.  Oh well.

When Esperanza wanted me to hold her, nothing could dissuade her.

She didn’t care what I was doing, she was going to be held.  She’d wheedle her way over or under whatever I was holding until she got her way.

She also didn’t like it when I was upset.

Like Truvy in Steel Magnolias, Esperanza had a strict policy that mommy does not cry alone.

If I was crying, she’d get up in my face and cry with me until we both calmed down.

She was the great white hunter; and her leaps into the air were amazing.  But, as far as I know, she never actually killed anything (unlike Kitsch who once took out a rat that was almost as big as Kitsch).

In her final years, she developed a liver problem that finally led to me having to have her put to sleep.

Even then she was very fierce.  She kept telling me, “I’m not dead yet.”  Growling and angry about having the iv stuck into her.

It was very traumatizing for both of us.

But she was so sick, and the vet told me that she would never get any better – only worse.

So I had to say goodbye to my babiest of kitties.

I wish she was here right now, because I’m crying alone, and I don’t like it one bit.



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