I remember the first time you played with water. We just got you from the pet store, and you were fearless. I did not have you on a leash because you were still small, but the store crew said I could put you in one when you grow up.
You did not insist on playing in the water puddle. You just looked at me, and I let you go without saying a word. The puddle was only a meter away, and you jumped in and out of it. It was hilarious to watch.
My mom wanted me to get you, but I told her that it is okay. Cats hate water, and since you loved it, I told her it would be easier to clean you. She liked what she saw eventually, and we had genuine fun watching you.
When we got you home, you became the complete opposite of what you were outside. You were curious about the dark corners and spaces below the chairs and tables. You zipped from room to room, as if you were memorizing the layout of the land.
When we were about to sleep, remember how I was looking for you? I thought we lost you! I looked for you, but I could not find you. But do you remember where I found you? You were in my room’s bathroom, squinting so at the faucet and swatting at the droplets of water that fell from the tap.
I got you to stop by laying you on my very own pillow. You burrowed in the bottom and seemed to linger under the stack pillow and blankets. I made you a makeshift tunnel, so I was sure some air would reach you.
I called you Lily the next day, as I saw how you floated while you were taking a bath in the tub. You were having fun paddling around, making sure you were soaking wet. I had to make sure you were blow-dried and away from any bodies of water, as I felt you always had this gleam in your eye that you always want to jump right in!
On your fifth year with us was the very first day I brought you to the beach. All around you were dogs running for frisbees or just enjoying running on the sand. But you? You ran straight to the water and jumped right in, swimming toward deeper waters. It was lucky I knew how to swim, so I followed you right in.
Even now, in your senior years, you still love the water, but instead of running, you walk ever so towards the sea. You do not jump in and swim, but you sit where the water will lap at your paws, trying to coax you in. You still played with water, but I did not let you be wet for long. I did not want you to catch a cold.
Then I fell so sick I was brought to the hospital. I was worried about you and kept asking about you. Mom did not tell me anything except to let me know I should take a rest. So, I made myself feel right again and went home when I was okay.
I looked for you at home, but I did not find you. I was so worried! At the patio, garden, kitchen.. name it, I tried looking for you but to no avail. I was crying so badly, you know?
But lo and behold, I should have looked for you in the very first place you were peaceful. The place you slept ever so soundly despite the rambunctious day you had. There you were on my pillows, sleeping peacefully as if you did not have a care in the world.
Oh, Lily, my water cat. Do not ever scare me like that again. To Lily, the cat who loves water, I love you.