She is no longer trailing dust and debris wherever she goes; she is no longer scratching left and right, and shake shake shake like at a disco.
She no longer lets me take pictures of her without exhausting all my day and the patience that comes with her jumping on my camera or bumping the lens.
She no longer stays in the laundry room; she picked my bathroom mat, and no longer let anyone step on it except me.
She no longer wants her sea cucumber jelly, she no longer wants her ADE C treats, she no longer wants her brush.
She is no longer dependent.
She is no longer meek.
She swats everyone who plays and bumps on her and she broke all the kittens’ hearts. She made each of them cry at least once, and though she never took their food from them, she won’t hesitate to mash them if they try to do something funny.
She will growl if two kittens or more are chasing back and forth and make her dizzy, and although she never harms them, she prefers they chase and roll somewhere else.
She is no longer shy. She loves attention and now that I no longer complain about the bumps and crusts whenever I rub her, it means she can hog my hand all she wants.
She will soon, no longer have chance a to be a mother. If my vet gives her a clear, she will go for her spay together with Cali.
She is Grizabella, and she is on her new life journey.