Roxie’s moon, by Christine Robinson and Phil Robinson

We look forward to a full moon every month when we say, “This is Roxie’s moon” – the orange full moon we saw the evening Roxie died.

Roxie defied the odds. She lived through a stroke, thyroid disease, heart disease, dental disease, cancer, and finally succumbed at age 20 ½ after two years of pancreatitis.

As we petted Roxie for the last time, our vet told us that she often spoke of Roxie as a model for other pets whose guardians faced their own pet’s life or death decisions. As the vet left the room, I shook Roxie’s paw one last time and said, “Bye kitty.”

Roxie came to us as a tiny fur ball from a shelter in Virginia. She instantly stole our hearts. Roxie charmed everyone she met. Guests instantly became her friends.

What an acrobat! One friend named her a “vertical cat.” She climbed kitchen cabinets, ladders, a Christmas tree, curtains, walked across banisters, and our furniture – no matter how high.

Our calico named Chessie (now 19) and Roxie were inseparable. Chessie and Roxie bathed each other and curled up in a little ball together. Chessie had never known life without Roxie before Roxie died. But we soon adopted a friend to keep her company.

We learned to check beneath blankets and bedclothes to make sure Roxie wasn’t underneath. A lump in the bed was a cue! She often slept with only her whiskers and ears visible between our pillows, and she slept between our heads.

We will always look forward to seeing “Roxie’s moon” and always cherish our 20 ½ years with her. No one could ever take her place.

But, in memory of the ones who preceded them, we always make room for new pets and offer them the best life any pet could ever hope for.

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