Amber Starr Pozo

1987-2008

Twenty-one years ago, I was dating my first “serious” boyfriend, Richard and Xmas was approaching. Every time he asked me what it was that I wanted, I repeated the same answer, I wanted a Persian Cat. He was pretty tight and realizing how much a pure breed cat was going to cost, he tried all kinds of tactics to try to get me to give him a different response (ie. What would be the second best thing I could get you for Xmas? Response: Nothing, I want a Persian Cat). In the end, my stubbornness won out and on December 25, 1987, I was presented with the most gorgeous cream colored Persian kitten to have ever graced this earth. She had a shy disposition, big beautiful amber eyes and as a testament to Richard’s cheapness and the questionable breeder he must have gone to for the lowest price, she also had fleas, ringworm and was in desperate need for a bath. It was love at first sight. For me and the kitten that is, Richard was out of the picture by summertime. In the two decades that followed, many boyfriends, friends, acquaintances have come and gone, but the one thing that has remained constant in my life has been the love and joy that I have received from watching that kitten, who I named Amber Starr, and who grew into my most loyal and trusted companion. Early on, she developed the ability to distinguish the sound of my car. As soon as I would pull into the driveway, she would run to the door to greet me. She would stand there just long enough to make sure I had seen her, and then run as fast as she could to my room, knowing that the first thing I would do would be to play with her. By the time I got to my room, she would already be purring…to me the greatest sound imaginable. As she got older, she would no longer run to the door, but would wait for me in my bed, where she would sleep alongside me, purring every time I reached for her. In the morning she would initiate the game, by gently patting my face with her paw until I awoke and returned the favor. But even with this constant output of love, she still managed to find more to go around. When my father became ill two years ago, she took up a post of the armrest of his favorite chair, which she did not abandon until months after his passing. During his life, my father would worry constantly about my mother’s well-being and Amber Starr’s, as well (there are few things more disconcerting than finding bright pink spots on the fur of your cream colored baby and then learning it was because your doctor father had prescribed Pepto-Bismol for some perceived ailment). When my father passed away, Amber became the one who would wait worriedly by the door if my mother was not home before nightfall. She would become agitated if my mother chose to sleep in late and would not be assuaged until she received some reassurance that my mother was ok. She always remained shy around strangers, but when she liked someone, her instinct was spot-on. The day she met Shawn, I could swear she was flirting with him. She rubbed up against him, rolled over on her back, in short, pulled every trick out of her amble bag of adorable. She was the sweetest, most generous soul I have ever known. She was so good a listener that I did not have to even tell her when I was ailing or feeling down, she instinctively knew and showered me with even more love and attention than usual. I mention all of this as a way of explaining why I am so heart broken. Last night, weeks after her 21st birthday, my baby, Amber Starr passed away at the vet’s office. She had never been alone outside of her home before, but she had become dehydrated and hypothermic, and her vet felt the best course of action was to keep her overnight on an IV. Due to the fact that I am in Amsterdam, and have been for the past four months, I was not there to offer her any comfort or solace, the way that she comforted me on so many occasions. I was not there to notice her progressive decline and step in earlier. Now I must live with the knowledge that a being that gave so much love to everyone around her spent her last hours alone in a cage. I live with the dread of returning home in September to a house so lacking in warmth that I do not know if I will even recognize it. Amber Starr, my beautiful baby, I will miss you more than words can express. You deserved so much better than this.