13/11/2023
We have no idea where Nina was born, just where we found her. I was three years old, and we went to the humane society with the intention of finding a friendly little kitty who could get along with our cat we already had. Like a newly-running toddler, I took off looking at the different cats. My parents found me by a worried worker running to try and get me out of a cage I had crawled into, yelling about how no one knew where the cat came from, she hated everyone, and had scratched and bit anyone who had gotten within 10 feet. Nina had already curled up on my lap, and we took her home that same day. Unsurprisingly, she did NOT get along with our pets, nor my parents, just me. The vet estimated that at the time we got her, in 2004, she was already six years old. She was an outdoor cat for a decade-- what brought her inside was an absolutely brutal coyote bite, for which she needed 12 staples in her side, and she healed and kept going with no issue. I have seen her chase deer across our three-acre yard, square up with raccoons, and fight every single stray cat that happened to be unlucky enough to wander onto our property. She stayed cognizant until the very end, her body just couldn't keep up with her spirit. To put her down, our lovely vet, Dr. Trish, administered a dose of sedative. Nina, my little tank of a cat, took two doses before going out, and still needed a good five minutes after the second dose for her to fully sleep. Our whole family was so beyond unsurprised, as that was just typical Nina fashion. Until her heart stopped, you could hear her old-lady purr-snore combination that she always did when I slept next to her. When she passed, she was approximately 24 years old. She saw me start pre-school, and saw me graduate college. She was my soul-cat, my Nina-bina, my lovely little angel. I will miss her forever.