Mini Bee Pettit III
(November 2001 - November 2005)
   

In the fall of 2002 Amy Pettit’s granddaughter Kristin Stanley showed Amy a photograph of Mini Bee and told her grandmother that this beautiful cat, about a year old at the time, had been caught in a trap in the north part of San Angelo and had been taken to the animal shelter where she was to be euthanized the next day if no one adopted her by that time. Amy grabbed the photograph and exclaimed, “No, they won’t! I’ll take her!” And thus began a very close relationship of love between owner and cat, or should we say “between Amy and her owner,” for Mini Bee became very possessive of her and made many demands upon her to which Amy acceded. When Mini Bee demanded to be fed, she was fed, with her oftentimes refusing what was proffered. In this manner she let it be known that she preferred the most expensive cat food and sometimes only wanted the juice on top of the food. It took her a little while to get Amy trained.

Mini Bee III was a very beautiful cat with unusual muted, variegated coloring to her fur and big round greenish-yellow eyes. When she looked into Amy’s eyes, it was as though she was looking into her soul. She looked almost exactly like the first two Mini Bee’s who had preceded her. Yet, she was even more special than they, for she came into Amy’s life at a time when Amy was very lonely. To Amy, Mini Bee was like a child. She rocked her, told her that she loved her, and Mini Bee let Amy know that she loved her, too. She would climb into Amy’s lap, get up under chin, rub on her, and purr. She followed her from room to room. She slept with her. 

She comforted her when she was sad. This special little being brought much joy and love and wonder into Amy’s life and was so much more than “just a cat.”

Although now an inside cat, Mini Bee longed for the outdoors which had been so dear to her in her former life. For a while she would listen to Amy’s admonition that she remain in the backyard and had Amy fooled that she was an obedient little cat. However, her wanderlust began to resurface. She climbed over the fence, disappeared for several days, and came home with serious battle wounds. Evidently, as a result of this foray she developed FIV with which she lived for two more years. There were frequent trips to the veterinarian, many rounds of antibiotics and steroid shots—all of which gave her a boost for a while and prolonged her life. It was Amy’s love and care, too, that helped to extend her life longer than expected.

A few days before she died, Mini Bee secluded herself underneath the chest of drawers in her room. She ate and drank little and refused to come out. However, the day she died she seemed to cry and to be in some pain. She let Amy take her into her arms and to the rocker where they had rocked together so many times before. Amy cradled her in her arms, caressed her and told her that she loved her. On that cold November morning in 2005 Mini Bee died in the arms of the loving one who had saved her from being put to sleep three years before, and she is now waiting for Amy on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.