I heard via the fabulous Sara of Going Jesus of a large, well-loved cat who attended early service at a Berkeley church vocalizing if she desired attention and knew the church and the cat instantly.
When I popped into early service myself for the first time, there she was. (I knew she was Brigid, not Julian, because she had allowed me to inspect her collar at the Easter Vigil.) No chance to give her a scritchie, as she was comfortably ensconsced on Dave's lap during the readings and the sermon (although Dave evicted her during the Gospel reading). The chapel felt like a sacred space version of my living room - peaceful, good light, and with a mellow feline in residence. (Usually she would make her rounds and then settle in on one of the chairs for a nap.) I felt, quite literally, at home and decided to stick around. When I started mostly going to 10 am, Brigid was around in the courtyard before and after the services greeting her fan club. (She also usually graced evening classes and committee meetings.)
Anyone who has been around St. Mark's for a while, especially at the early service, has a Brigid story to tell. I heard some of the classics ("When Ellen dropped the chalice") and was around myself for some of Brigid's continued adventures. One night when I was in the church setting up for a Eucharist the next day, we heard mewing like she was trapped, and we opened every cabinet in the sacristry area to see if we could find her. Turned out she was in the crawl space and we were hearing her well because of the special drain we have in the sacristry for disposing of consecrated liquids which goes "to the ground" (e.g. fewer building layers). And I almost disgraced myself laughing after one of the most solemn services of the year when Brigid brought in a live mouse and started chasing it around Rector's feet in the acolyte's room. It reminded me so much of Maya in her Mighty Huntress days that, even though I managed to not burst out in mad giggle fits, I was no help at all getting the mouse out of the church. (I did get one of those lidded dustpan things for the sacristry Stuff Cabinet, though.)
Brigid was my special pal at the church after Maya died, because her attitude reminded me so much of Maya. So she always got a hello and a special scritch from me, even if I was shooing her out of the sacristry at the time (because we didn't want her to get trapped in the closet). If I didn't see her on Sunday, I missed her.
I swung by the church today to pick up some items I'd left and made some remark about the open sanctuary door to the sexton, to learn that Brigid had died on Thursday after being hit by a car. I hope it was sudden for her and that she did not suffer. In a lot of ways it's like I'm losing Maya all over again, so I've been rather weepy (although remembering the story of the mouse in the sacristry made me laugh). I will miss her, as will the other FoBs (Friends of Brigid). She was a very fine cat indeed.
Here's a photo of Brigid on the Rector's Chair, taken in late May: