1. She had beautiful gray and white markings: a gray saddle with white legs, and there was a drip of milk in the middle of her forehead.
2. We lived in the country when she was young, and she spent most of her time in the ravine beside the house. We often found a dead mouse or vole on our welcome mat. for which we praised her.
3. When the car pulled into the driveway, she bounded up out of the ravine to meet us, a furry welcome.
4. She walked the girls to the schoolbus every morning (next to the ravine) and met them when she heard the bus grind to a stop every afternoon.
5. She generally didn’t meow unless there was a reason.
6. She used her litterbox. One time the door to the room with the litterbox was accidentally shut. That night she peed on the throw rug in front of our toilet, which I thought was quite brilliant (and easily washable).
7. She liked ice in her waterdish and communicated that by sitting expectantly in front of the freezer.
8. She often slept at the top of the stairs, facing the front door, like a watch-cat.
9. She enjoyed being lint-rolled, which was terribly funny (and effective).
10. She was a connoisseur of texture and slept on anything soft, funny, smooth. You have to love an animal who loves your “Care Bear” fleece.
11. She was a birdwatcher after we moved to Virginia and her whole body would tremble as her eyes followed the movement of birds at the feeder.
12. She never pestered another pet. We often had other animals in the house that she could have preyed upon. At times the bird got out of her cage. A hermit crab. The turtle.
13. She sat on your lap when you read or watched TV.
14. She smelled the flowers on the kitchen table all the time. She loved smelling flowers.
15. She was uneasy around big groups of people and tended to hide when people came over, but if there was a small child, I could often coax Krystal into letting the child pet her. So she was an introvert, but adaptive.
Krystal died on Nov 13, of renal failure. She became very dehydrated over a course of two days and there was nothing to be done. We euthanized her so she would’t suffer. She was 13 years old. We got her as a kitten, from a friend in Petersburg, IL, for Hannah’s 10th birthday, in March of 1997. RIP, Krystal.