Sketchy was a feral cat that decided she was ready for the good life. She scratched on my door one day, and upon being let inside simply never left. This was a miraculous gift, and we spent the next fifteen years adoring each other.

It is impossible to overemphasize how sweet and silly and hungry this creature was. How much she was Exactly Herself. How deeply she was loved—not just by me, but by everyone she met, and at least one dog with discerning taste.

I miss her little squawk of a voice and letting her lick my ice cream spoon. I miss her tiny paw touching my face (usually gently) to garner my attention. I miss watching her lounge in puddles of sunshine and thinking, “surely nobody has ever been more decadently cozy.” She was simply the best.

It was an honor to steward Sketchy’s care in this life. I hope with my whole heart that she scratches on my door in the next life too.