Nerva, short for Minerva, was young, only four years old — but old enough to have a lasting impact. She came to us on a last-resort whim with her sister at eleven weeks old, where her options were being left in the cold or we take her in. Originally she was to be fostered out, but our oldest cat, whom never had a litter, started to nurse Nerva and her sister. Nerva was reclusive; often hiding atop our china cabinet, but when she came out her entire personality shined. She loved to perch on our shoulder like a parrot, and often would climb under blankets with us to cuddle and keep warm. She kept a strict bedtime of 10 pm, and if we chose to not lay down to sleep she’d scream. Her voice was loud and distinct, and she always spoke her mind when she didn’t agree with what you were doing. She never looked for trouble, but if it found her she was quick to finish it. She hated baths, but loved to groom her humans (whether they liked it or not). She often tried to steal whatever her humans were eating, regardless if it was healthy for her. Nerva spent her days well loved, and was adored by many, to the point where we had our own version of the “baby yoda” tiktok audio with her name instead. She will forever be loved and missed, but we hope she is having the time of her life on the rainbow bridge with her big brother Sirius.