She was not polished, but she shone.

She was not fancy, only perfect.

She went by Silver, but her heart was solid gold.

At just five pounds, Silver was weighty with wonders.

The littlest cat in the Community Room seemed as young and old as New York City, the bustling, breathless place of her birth. She trilled like a kitten, then curled into a tiny grey granny knot for coma-deep sleep. She burbled bawdy opinions the length of a Broadway musical — “cats are abominable, people are adorable”  — then burrowed in the borough of the nearest lap.

Most of all, Silver carried herself with the confidence of someone who has been loved.

We have all seen such beings. They may be meek or swashbuckling, plain or glamorous — or, like Silver, all of the above. What they share is a certain shimmer, that sturdy sense of worth. They know who they are, because someone told them in more than words. If they live to be a hundred, wrinkled beyond recognition, they will still know what they look like: beloved.

Nothing can tarnish a power this precious.

But death will try.

Silver and her Mom were soulmates by every measure. Together, they lost count of years and kisses. Silver became incontinent and developed serious kidney disease. But under love’s loupe, these were not smudges, only cause for greater care. Silver and her Mom remained ageless in their oneness, fine-tuned to each other’s joys and sorrows.

When death robbed Silver of her treasure, the loss could have crushed the little cat like foil. But love ran through Silver’s veins. A halo of human diamonds formed a ring around her. They would bear Silver over the bridge from love to love. It turned out that bridge also led to New Jersey.

And, in a New York minute, the miniature senior became a Tabby’s Place cat.

At first, Silver did not recognize the new fingerprints in her fur. She did not want any hands to express her bladder unless they could also hand her back to her Mom.

But once you have been loved, your locket stays open. When you have been polished by adoring eyes, you cannot help but shine.

Thus began Silver’s victory lap through love’s many neighborhoods. She began in the foster home of Rey, a megalopolis of compassion in one person. Rey’s affections were at once familiar and new, a reminder of home and the promise that joy has more than one address.

Next came the Tabby’s Place Community Room, where Silver minted memories by the hour. Visitors asked if she was a kitten or a crone, and all we could say was, “She’s Silver.” Age turned irrelevant the moment they heard her chatty alto, or felt the subway-rumble of her purr in their arms, or gazed into her eyes.

Oh, those eyes.

Silver appeared to be made almost entirely of eyes, like a tiny Chrysler Building with floor-to-skyline windows. And when she looked in you — not at you, but in you, all the way to the walls still waiting to be painted with love — you knew who you were, too.

In the alchemy of affection, the well-loved turn weary hours to gold.

We were greedy for golden years with Silver, but it was not to be.

When kidney disease came on like a train, we knew time was short. Rey and Silver agreed they had to spend these precious days together. Thanks to Rey, every one of Silver’s final hours was a gem beyond compare.

She left her last great love for her first great love, sprinting home to the greatest city of all.

Thanks to Silver, we have glimpsed the heights of love through shining eyes.

And someday, love’s wide bridge will open, and Silver can introduce us all to the one who holds her again, forever.

For now, may we think of our Silver girl every time we hear the words of fellow New Yorker Paul Simon in “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” The brilliant singer-songwriter has always admitted he can’t quite claim credit for this masterpiece. It came to him unbidden, like a gift that dropped into his hands simply because they were open.

That sounds like another treasure I know.

Until we meet again, beloved Silver.

“Sail on, Silvergirl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
If you need a friend
I’m sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.” – Paul Simon, Bridge Over Troubled Water

Reflections from just a few of Silver’s many adorers on our staff:

“She was the most perfect little lady. She greeted me with the cutest meows every time I came into the Community Room in the morning, and I was always just as excited to see her. She was so sweet, constantly licking my hands and arms even while she was being expressed. I’m glad she got to be a Tabby’s Place cat and receive such loving care during her time with us.” – Colin G.

“Such a gentle soul. She gave so many soft licks to my hands that just melted my heart. She would also follow me around during rounds, wanting attention.” – Lisa L.

“Silver may not have appreciated the company of the other cats, but she would always come to greet visitors in the Community Room and demand to lick their hands. Some times during rounds, she would insist on being wherever I was in the room, even if that meant we would be walking circles around each other as I tried to medicate the other cats.” – Jae H.

“Perfect little angel  that just wanted attention and to lick every part of you!” – Tiff K.

“Licky cat friend to humans. Commanded respect of other cats. She was one of a kind. Salute. RIP Silver.” – Mario L.

And from Silver’s adoring foster parent Rey:

“She was the sweetest little soul. She faced so many health challenges in her time here but despite it all, she never lost her spunk. She would get so excited to see you in the mornings and would meow at you from her crate and lick you incessantly. She had a lot of strong feelings about the other cats, and her ‘old lady street cred’ was not to be messed with. When I took her home as a hospice foster, she immediately asserted her dominance over my 4 other cats. She loved people though and enjoyed lots of petting, and had an extra soft spot for scratches on top of the head! She also loved food and treats and her favorite was fancy feast broths. She will be deeply missed by all.“

PS: Last Friday was simply a horrid day at Tabby’s Place. Not only did we lose Silver, but we also had to say goodbye to two of the sweethearts in our Forever Foster program. Beloved Verde lived three years beyond all expectations in Karina’s tender care, and darling Harriet was reborn in the devoted home of volunteer Janet. Our hearts are broken and grateful and overflowing all at once. Love will carry us all.

More Blog Posts