Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

In her 13 years with us, Fiona spent most of it exercising the art of camouflage. A tortoiseshell colored cat, she was able to blend into the background, the shadows, and even the blankets with remarkable ease. Shy of new people, visitors often didn’t realize we had a cat. But every night she’d come out to perch (yes, I said perch) on the highest point of John or me in bed. There she would lie, completely unfazed by any amount of wiggling, re-positioning or outright cat eviction. If anything moved her out of her spot she’d just regally reclaim her high point, never deigning to acknowledge us commoners below her.

Here is a prime example of Fiona perching – on Piper the Great Dane. This was not a one time occurrence.

She stole food off the table, never caught a mouse and put up with a modest amount of harassment…