How can you be surrounded by beloved fur kids, yet feel so alone? Tikie was the only female among the dogs and cats, my ever-present BFF against a house full of boys. She was my lap cat, my girly-girl, and my Princess Pea, and she became an angel on December 8, 2025.

Tikie let us know when she was ready to leave this world, her frail frame no longer able to combat the ravages of kidney failure. With broken hearts, we helped her cross the Rainbow Bridge, at the approximate age of 18 after being in our family for 13 years.

Her loss has been immense. We have our other cats, but Tiki left a void that can never be filled. When she was younger, she slept beside me. She was a lap cat at her core, often following me, meowing for me to sit so she could jump on my lap. She was a constant presence, and I feel lost without her. I’ve written about how she came into our lives here. My only regret is that we didn’t meet her sooner.

We received Tiki’s ashes in time for Christmas. The family feels whole again, in a new, somber way. She sits among those who have gone before her, Annie, Ozzy, Moose, and Red. All are missed and never forgotten.

2025 was tough on our fur family. Between almost losing Cosmo in the fall (more on that in future posts), and Tikie’s farewell, we hope 2026 will be kinder to us all. Unfortunately, another fur kid is declining, as he suffers from the same ailment as Tikie. It’s likely just a matter of time before 2026 claims one of our other beloved cats. I implore you to hold your fur family tight. My arms feel less full, my lap so much lighter.

** I’ve spelled our girl’s name two different ways intentionally, Tiki and Tikie. It was with an “ie” at the shelter, but we more often used just the “i.” Since it was the original spelling, “Tikie” is inscribed on her urn. **