Bella

Bella came into her dad's life during a period when having a pet was difficult. A good friend asked him to watch her for a few days, and that arrangement lasted ten years.

Bella did not like to be held and would scratch the tissue from your forearm with her back claws if you tried. But she loved to be petted and couldn't get enough of it. Her shiny black coat was the softest fur I had ever felt. It truly made silk feel like sandpaper in comparison. Always answered to Bella, Bella-Boo, Bel, and occasionally some words that don't go over well in polite society.

When her sister Frankie joined the household, Bella protested at first. In time the two became best friends. She was known for grooming her dad by licking any part of his hand or arm that dangled off the chair or couch during a nap.

What Bella loved most was sitting on her special chair and keeping a careful eye on the backyard for squirrels and birds. As an indoor cat, she lived vicariously through Frankie, her trusted tactical partner, who served as her eyes and ears "in the field."

One day her dad left two pounds of filet mignon on the kitchen counter and stepped away for a phone call. When he returned, the deli wrap was on the ground and Bella was feasting on what must have been the finest dinner she had ever had.

At this point, Bella is missed only by her dad, who will never forget her. Frankie has already joined her at the Rainbow Bridge.