Dear Diane, You asked me if I would write something about Dolly and what she meant to us. I feel inadequate to the task. I know you will understand when I say she was such a 'human' cat, only a better human than most of us.
We came to San Diego to visit your house in the summer of 1994. I was buying her for my mother because my father had recently left the family after, 40 years of marriage, and she was devastated. I remember Dolly and her siblings were in a play pen in your living room and neither Dolly, nor any of the kittens, seemed particularly eager to leave their pleasant life. Certainly Dolly knew she'd never seen us before. She eyed us warily and seemed to know exactly what was going on. Some kind of 'moment' had come and an important process was taking place. I recall her carefully sizing me up, not even sure if I was allowed to hold her.