Ginger was a beautiful cat. She was a black and grey MaineCoon. She had seven toes on each paw.....MaineCoons are known for such. She was a sweet kitty. She ate dinner with us every night..I made her a plate of her own, with some of each dish. She drank her water dripping from the kitchen sink, and when I cooked, she insisted on being held with one arm, while I cooked with the other. She was a small cat, only eight pounds..but every ounce was full of sweetness and love. I only had her for two years....and I loved her more than any other pet I ever had.
She got a cold, and was on antibiotics from the vet. She had much mucus , and we did our best to keep it clear, and to make sure her medicine. However, she got strangled on mucus, and started choking...my husband at the time tried to help her..even going so far as to give her mouth to mouth and CPR.....all to no avail. She died on my kitchen table while he was trying to save her. I was inconsolable, and for a good while, refused to have any more pets. I loved Ginger, and it took months to be able to even think of her without crying. We buried her , wrapped in a burgundy chenille throw, in our back yard, and placed heavy stones over her grave so that other animals wouldn't dig her up. I still miss her today.