My daughter is 23. When she was a little girl, we took in a stray named Colours, an unusual looking long-haired calico. Colours soon bonded with me. My daughter said she wanted her own cat. We adopted Princess from Pet-Smart. They get cats from local shelters. The irony is that we picked out another cat, Misty. While we shopped, someone else adopted Misty. When we went back to look at the cats in their cages and ask for assistance, we saw that Misty was gone and chose Princess. It was Fate.

Princess was a beautiful, sleek tuxedo cat. Her fur was shiny jet black. She had snow white trim on her tummy and feet. Her white whiskers adorned her cute face. Her ears almost seemed Siamese. When we brought her home, she hit under the bed for three days. Colours was surprised to see another cat in our apartment.

Eventually, little Princess, a year and a half younger than Colours, came out. She turned out to be a good eater, although Colours ate her food first while Princess patiently waited for her turn. She was very smart and lots of fun. Once I was watching Animal Planet with a friend. Princess saw a cat on the TV and leaped up and touched the screen. We laughed ourselves silly.

I was divorced at that time and my daughter was living with me. She left to finish school in her dad's town. Princess cuddled up to me at night when I went to sleep. She'd be right up against my back or lie on my feet. She was a bit more of a people cat than Colours, although both my girls were friendly and curious, as cats are.

Sometimes my furbabies would chase each other around the apartment. Princess growled like a dog. She was very fast, Colours was more of a mellow cat who liked to sit or sleep. Both cats always slept on my bed with me. Colours was quiet and if she meowed, it was low. Princess was a talker, she had a loud meow. She was such a beautiful cat the vet remarked on it. She could have been a show cat.

I had to apply for disability in 2005 because of heart problems I have had since birth and bipolar disorder. I passed and received my first Social Security Disability income check within six months. On Dec. 7, 2010, I turned 63. I love being retired early, even though it's financially challenging. I was not sure I could keep both cats, though. I felt mean and stingy, but I had to be practical. My daughter took Princess to live with her in her dad's house.

In July 2010 my daughter moved to Colorado. She drove across the country from New Jersey with Princess in her carrier. For an hour, her furbaby cried and meowed. Then she went to sleep. The trip took two days with a stay at a pet-friendly motel.

Several months ago, my daughter noticed that Princess had a swollen tummy. She took the cat to the vet. The vet examined her and took X-rays. There was a mass on her spleen. To determine if it was cancer, she would have to have more tests and expensive treatments. My daughter decided against tests and treatments and let her live a life full of good quality. Princess rebounded; we thought she might have a benign tumor. Many years ago, she had a white lump above her left eye. I took her to the vet and had it removed and biopsied. It was benign. Perhaps that growth, and another one I discovered on an ear before she left my home, led to a pre-disposition to grow tumors. The one in her spleen was cancerous.

My daughter went away on a weekend trip and when she came home, she noticed that Princess was not well. She took her to the vet. Cancer was diagnosed. She called me, her voice full of tears, and said she was going to put Princess down. The cat was approximately 14 years old. It was early May, 2011.

I spoke to my daughter on May 7th, 2011, the day before Mother's Day. She was with Princess when she had her put down. Princess died peacefully at the vet's office without pain and suffering.

I take comfort in the fact that Princess and Colours are reunited over the Rainbows Bridge. They are, no doubt, being spoiled by my dear Mother and my aunts and other relatives and friends who have passed away. I know they are being fed, played with, and petted. In real life, my Mom never had the good fortune to meet the cats.

My daughter and I loved dear Princess and lovely Colours very much. There is a hole in our hearts that will never be filled. My daughter intends to get another cat and she said she always wants to have pet cats. I have decided not to get another pet because of my health. As of this writing I am healthy, but I live alone and never know what will happen. Do any of us?

R.I.P., darling Princess. You brought joy to our lives. You are with Colours, your dear little furbaby friend. I have pictures of them, both together and apart, and I cherish these and display many around my apartment.

A few weeks before Princess was diagnosed and put to sleep, I had a severe anxiety episode. I knew something bad was going to happen. Now that it's over, the anxiety has lifted. Comfort and peace is with me now.

My daughter did the right thing. She also takes comfort in the happiness Princess brought her. She was a little character with a wonderful, playful personality. She let us pet her, but would nip or claw if she was annoyed. When I had both cats I kept them indoors, but sometimes they escaped. I always coaxed them back into the apt. My door opens to the outside. It's not safe, with heavy traffic, cars speeding up the block, and stray cats and many dogs.

We loved our Princess furbaby. I dedicate this piece to her. For my piece on Colours, you can, if you wish, read her dedication.

Joy comes with the final step of acceptance when we lose our furbabies to death. Love you, Princess, my daughter's little devil furbaby. Peace reigns supreme.