Remembering Fiona Glover, Queen of Glover Gardens (2010–2025)

“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.”
— Ernest Hemingway

Fiona Glover, age 15 (78 in cat years), leapt suddenly across the rainbow bridge on October 23, 2025. Mourning her and wishing her joy in the kitty afterlife are her devoted parents, Tom and Kim Glover; her human brothers, Brandon Glover and Thomas Wenglinski; and her adopted feline sibling, Godfrey Glover. Also grieving are numerous friends and family members who always wished Fiona would acknowledge them.

Fiona’s story began humbly. A frightened, feral, dehydrated, and undernourished but beautiful calico kitten, she was found huddled in the hood of a car at a neighborhood mechanic shop. The kindhearted shop owners reached out to the Glover family, who were then desperately searching for their missing cat, Scout, via numerous flyers across a 5-mile radius. “This isn’t the cat on your poster,” they said, “But it’s a scared, abandoned kitten who needs a home”. Kim and Thomas went to meet her, and the rest was history.

That frail rescue kitten weighed less than 2 lbs. but had an enormous personality and the confidence of a lioness. Christened “Fiona” because she reminded the family of the bad-ass female character in the TV show Burn Notice, she immediately began to rule Glover Gardens with a velvet paw. Fiona wasn’t a fan when her adopted brother, Godfrey, a sweet and simple tuxedo cat, joined the family when she was 8 months old (15 in cat years). Throughout their relationship, she took great pleasure in reminding him who was boss. She regularly commandeered his breakfast and thrilled at the chance to chase or torment him, her eyes alight with mischief and her tail as puffy as a feather duster.

Fiona loved to join Kim and Tom and whoever happened to be visiting during their outdoor rituals at the Tree House known as “Happy Coffee” or “Happy Cocktail,” (depending on the time of day). She sat and watched the birds or went into red alert mode when mysterious sounds disturbed her serenity or aroused her curiosity.

Fiona relished the time she spent outside in her backyard kingdom, and she owned every bit of it.

Ever curious, Fiona’s stealthy escapes outside the perimeter by leaping over the fence inspired her Dad, Tom, to engineer a “cat-tainment” system—three feet of chicken wire atop the six-foot fence enclosing her one-acre domain. Her escape artist nature was the least popular of her traits within the family. Despite these extreme measures, she still sometimes found ways to break out and explore the world outside the back yard. For this reason, Fiona wore a “Tab Cat” tracking necklace 24/7 so that her family could find her and keep her safe.

A master communicator, Fiona conveyed her desires with precision: breakfast (on time), chin scratches, admittance to the master bedroom, her God-given right to outside time in the back yard, or salmon-flavored treats for coming inside when she was called. She was emotional and expressive and wielded sarcasm like a superpower. When the litter box needed attention, she’d stand cockily beside it and look up, as if to say, “Are you proud of this? Planning to do something about it?” And when she meowed at the back door, only to sprint toward the Tree House instead of ambling inside for her usual treat—well, that was her gentle reminder that it was time for everyone to relax at the Happy Place (the Tree House). Rituals were important to her.

Fiona made a sport out of relaxing, showing everyone how it should be done, with one’s whole heart and one’s limbs loose.

Fiona loved to chill out near Mom and Dad, often in their home offices, or Kim’s studio where she writes blog posts (and obituaries).

But she also knew how to combine R&R with circumspection and watchfulness, as evidenced by the flick of her tail in these gifs (click the play buttons).

Fiona had strong feelings about her humans’ travel habits — specifically, that she disapproved. Whenever suitcases appeared, both she and Godfrey would climb inside as if to sabotage the trip, glaring in solidarity. It was their unmistakable message: “You’re not going anywhere without us.”

In their own way, Fiona and Godfrey achieved a level of acceptance and sometimes even fondness over the years—a grudging respect between two very different spirits. On rare, peaceable afternoons, they could be found stretched out in the same patch of sunlight, watching birds together from the window, or just napping in Mom’s studio.

It was this surprising truce that Kim once celebrated in a photo challenge titled “Variations on a Theme: Because There Aren’t Enough Cat Pictures in the World.”

Variations on a Feline Theme, Because There Aren’t Enough Cat Pictures in the World (and a haiku)

That post closed with a haiku that now swells with bittersweet nostalgia for Godfrey, as he grieves:

you and me, kitten –
we’re in this thing together –
slumber party dreams

Fiona’s presence also inspired poetry all her own. In the post Two Cat Haiku: Made Thoughtful by Sunlight, Kim captured her serene, self-assured spirit in verse:

sleepy by sunlight,
Fiona sits, and waits, and
contemplates her fate

“I’m a cat goddess,
because I’m a calico —
destined for greatness!”

While she had too much class to voice it, Fiona knew she was beautiful and how to hold a pose that captured her personality. She almost commanded her humans to photograph her, and the results didn’t disappoint.

She was especially amused by her “art imitates life” (or is it “life imitating art”?) photo shoots with cat images.

Though Fiona’s independence often overshadowed her affection, to those who knew her best, she was one of the most human cats imaginable—opinionated, curmudgeonly in the most lovable way, and never far from where the action was. She might have pretended indifference to anyone not named Kim or Tom Glover, but she never wanted to be more than ten feet from her people. Her presence was always felt, and her meow, though sometimes demanding, was always heard and respected.

“I have felt cats rubbing their faces against mine and touching my cheek with claws carefully sheathed. These things, to me, are expressions of love.”
— James Herriot

Fiona embodied that quiet, unspoken love completely — not showy or sentimental, but deeply genuine. She could be aloof one moment and tender the next, her head-bumps and watchful nearness saying everything that needed saying.As Kim said, She was, quite simply, ours—and we were lucky to be hers.

No formal service was held, but Fiona’s humans toasted her life with glasses of Hunnicutt Chardonnay from a recent Napa trip, sharing Amazing Fiona Stories through laughter and tears. These stories will continue for the rest of their days. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that you give that next stray cat you see a pat in Fiona’s honor and consider a rescue if you adopt a fur baby.

© 2025 Glover Gardens