Loki was born in 1993, but she didn't move in with us until early 1997. This kitten photo is from her previous home, which is where we first met her. I remember her suckling on my armpit when we visited there. I could have easily taken her home on the spot but we were destined to wait a few more years.

From the very get go, Loki was spirited, confident, and chock full of mischief. If a thing wasn't nailed down then she would rearrange it. I think this teddy bear looks a little worried about what she's going to do to him.  He should be.

And here is her other side, the sweet endearing ball of purr that I fell in love with. Her little pink nose never failed to melt my heart.

If there was anything going on then Loki would be part of it. She was very paws-on and ever so helpful. Here she is supervising the wood floor installation in late 1999.

Back when I had a nice toasty warm CRT monitor in my office, she loved to sleep on top of it. I still remember her shock and confusion when I replaced the CRT with a flat screen. She tried to jump on top of it as usual but the back end wasn't there! I miss those days. It was nice seeing her above my screen, even when she dangled her paws over what I was reading.

Here she is enjoying a nice open window in the spring of 2004. She never really tried to get out. For all of her adventurous ways, she was still a homebody.

Loki was both vocal and highly social. She greeted us loudly with chirps and trills. She was also a lap seeking missile and always seemed to be aware of when I was about to sit down. She would try to out-compete any other cat for precious lap time. She did her best to get along with everyone but that wouldn't stop her from delivering a sound whopping to anyone who got out of line. She was small but she more than made up for it with attitude.

Here she is imbibing some catnip, but she didn't really need it. She remained energized and kittenish throughout her life. She was an expert high jumper and avid explorer. Nothing was out of her reach no matter what kind of barrier we put in place. When we bought a lock box so that we could feed the cats on a timer, she would start working on it in the middle of the night. It was more like a puzzle box for her, and it didn't last long. We eventually learned our lesson: Don't get in to an arms race with the cats, they always win.

Sometimes in the mornings I'd feel like I had two heads because I'd wake up with Loki curled right up against my neck. Another favorite was to nudge my arm out of the way and then curl up in the crook, or to use my legs as a hammock. She also liked to burrow when it was cold. In later years she just went straight for the pillow and slept against my head. The contact was important. If I moved then she moved too. She was almost symbiotic.

It's hard to believe that this adorable little creature once punched me in the mouth with her skull. She'd been startled by a loud noise so she rocketed out of my lap and straight in to my face. It took a few hours, but she eventually forgave me for so rudely being in her way.

Loki had an alertness and intensity about her. Sometimes it made her look cross, and sometimes just downright crazy (AKA Locopuffs). She also had a slightly serpentine appearance, but only in the most graceful sense of the word. When I could see she was looking for trouble, that's when I'd call her My Little Locutious.

Loki adored getting up on John's shoulder. She'd walk around on his back for awhile and then slide around upside down in to his arms. Her favorite time to do this was after a shower. She'd perch nearby and wait for the shower to be over. As soon as the water turned off he'd have to hurry up and get a towel on because she was very impatient about it and wasn't above launching at his shoulders before he was ready. She also had the strange habit of floating her tail in bath water. She wasn't a swimmer, she didn't like getting wet, but dipping her tail seemed like some kind of forbidden luxury. This photo was taken on Thanksgiving day, 2008.

Loki loved her plushies. She was so petite that when I had to move her I could just fold up the edges of her little round cat bed and carry her away. On these occasions I called her My Tittle Taco, with her tiny head poking out of the folded plush shell.

She had a strong will and held on to her favorite habits well in to old age. She was a dairy cat, especially ice cream, but she also appreciated some nice soft white bread, no crust. She would also park herself in front of the fridge to demand deli turkey, which we bought just for the cats. With a little help she was able to get to most of her favorite places almost to the end. She was so full of life, I was sure she would live to be twenty. I guess everyone thinks so, that their cat will be special and somehow break the odds. This photo is from just two months before we lost her.

There is no cure for chronic kidney disease. We did what we could with the available treatments, but even Loki's iron will had to rest eventually. She was a few months shy of 19 years old when she passed away on a clear Wednesday morning, November 09, 2011. Even now that she's gone, it's still hard to believe that she ever got old. Words can't begin to describe the uplifting impact of her presence in our lives. We miss you, little Lokums...