Lucy was the most active and vocal of all our cats. She loved "talking" to people, as if she really understood what you were saying to her. Every morning, around 4 a.m., she would come to the bedroom window and start meowing to be let in, like a teenager returning home from a club. Once she was inside, she’d go straight to eat and then snuggle up next to us to sleep.

She was born to a British cat, but her father was an ordinary neighborhood cat, so her fur wasn’t the noble gray of her mother’s. Sometimes it seemed like she couldn’t stand the fact that her coat wasn’t as refined as her mom’s, so this little one was always playing in the dust.

And she was always getting into something — as a kitten, she broke her tail, then she’d come back with a scratch on her paw or covered in dirt. But despite her crooked tail and fur constantly covered in pounds of dust, she was still our little, beloved fluffball.

We believe that in other parallel worlds, she’s still waking us up every morning, always coming when we call her, and living her best life.