I'd lived with cats all my life, and when I moved away from home (and once I got rid of the allergic boyfriend), I got my first cat that was only mine. His name was Frank, and his story is elsewhere on this site. When Frank had been with me for a few months, he started to seem bored and even a bit depressed. He would sit and stare at a wall for ages with an empty look in his eyes. So I decided he needed a friend.
On my 24th birthday, 14 October 1988, I brought home a tiny little, mostly black girlkitten. She had been born in the stables at a friend's country house. She was the first of the litter to venture out among the horses - imagine that tiny kitten among all those big hooves! I had to take her from her mother at that early age because she would have been pts along with her siblings if I hadn't.
When I let her out of the carrier, this minute little ball of fluff saw Frank and immediately raised her back and fluffed her tiny tail and hissed at Frank, who just sat there looking confused. When she jumped at him sideways, he even drew back a little.
In the evening, Frank and I retired to bed, and Nikki seemingly decided that was the place to be. At first, she came up to my face and thoroughly washed my neck and shoulder. Then she moved down to Frank, who was laying on my feet. She started groomin his tummy, then found a nipple, and happily purring started to suckle. Frank gave me an uncertain look, as if to ask what was going on, but then he settled down to groom Nikki and purr along with her. After that, they were best friends for the rest of their lives.
Nikki was always a tiny cat, but she made up for it with her huge ego, unshakeable self-confidence, and her fierce demeanour towards cats, dogs and any other animals that had the misfortune to her cross path. She was a very skilled huntress, which she demonstrated out on our summer island, where she got to hunt voles and water voles. She would even dive into the sea to catch the latter. One time, I was horrified to find in the morning that she had dragged home a baby hare and eaten part of its head. The baby hare was the same size as Nikki. i still don't know if she had killed it herself, but I wouldn't put it past her.
Nikki suffered from hyperthyroidism and asthma the last few years of her life. For a long time, she was permanently on Prednisone, which I wasn't too happy about, though I was told it doesn't tend to have so many bad side-effects in cats as in humans. Eventually, my vet suggested trying another medication containing theophylline.
The vet said 'the cat may feel some slight discomfort or nausea.' I agreed to try it. Three days after I started the medication, on Sunday, 22 May 2005, I awoke to strange sounds. I looked around, and Nikki was having a seizure that looked like epilepsy on the floor beside my bed. I rushed her to a vet, but it was too late to save her. Later that day, she was given release. She hadn't regained consciousness. Her ashes are strewn under a wild rosebush on the island that she loved so much.
