I would like to dedicate this post to Cinnamon Pi, who passed away today.
Years and years ago, Cinnamon lived as a declawed barn cat on a farm near us. I and my family never really paid her much mind, until one day we heard that she was "up for grabs." We already had two cats, but poor Cinnamon (then named Snickers) had a lot to put up with. Yapping dogs that never shut up, cold nights in a drafty barn, and big predators to whom she would become lunch if the wasn't careful. And on top of that, she didn't even have claws. How could she defend herself, let alone hunt? It was on a mild summer day that we finally decided to bring the bedraggled and terrified cat home with us.
Upon arriving home, we decided that Snickers was not a very fitting name, and changed it to Cinnamon. Cinnamon lived in our basement for a while, but she never settled in. Always on edge, the poor cat would rarely allow anyone to get near her, let alone pet her. As much a cat lover then as I am now, I would often cry over her fearfulness, desperately wishing that she would open up and allow us to help her. Weeks went by, and my family made the difficult decision to find a new home for Cinnamon in the city. Looking back, I don't think she could've ever adjusted to the country life anyway. We found the perfect place. At her new home, Cinnamon had everything she could've wished for, even a middle name: Pi. Under the undivided love and attention that her new human provided, Cinnamon blossomed. The rest of her life was full of happiness, and she was very loved. She still is, in fact. Cinnamon Pi will live on in our hearts forever.
Farewell, dear Cinnamon.