One sunny summer day 15 years ago, my 2 teenage children and I decided to get a companion for our cat Shadow. Shadow was already 7 years old, and I was looking for an adult cat, because I thought a kitten might be a little too tiring for him. We went to the local animal shelter, and carefully looked at all the cats. We were turning to go back for a second look, and my daughter spotted a cage with 4 tiny kittens in it. There was one black kitten sitting away from the others, and my daughter said "Mom, that's the one!". No amount of talking could convince her or my son that an adult cat would be a better choice for our home, so the kitten came home with us. He had the name "Ham" within a day because my kids said that he ate like a pig! He was a holy terror, I don't think that any kitten I'd ever owned shredded my furniture or drapes as fast as he did. He also chewed through an electrical cord, which earned him the nickname "Zap Cat" from my kids and their friends for a few months. He grew into a 28 pound dynamo, jumping into laundry baskets, open drawers, and any open box he saw--it didn't matter the size, he made himself comfortable. He weathered the passing of his friend Shadow after 3 years of togetherness, and then made a move with us from Pennsylvania to South Carolina as though it was nothing. Ham loved the sunshine, and he would sleep in our backyard for hours, waking up just occasionally to get a drink from the fountain. He acquired a new cat friend named Val, and they developed a bond of devotion to each other that was remarkable to witness. He and Val spent the following years eating "catgrass", playing with toy mice, and chasing string until they fell asleep by the windows. Ham was very active until he started developing arthritis when he was 13, so he couldn't go up and down the stairs as well as he used to, and it took him a little longer to catch his string, but he still purred whenever we said his name, and still loved to sit on our laps and be petted. Gradually he became slower and slower, and in the last few months he slept more and more. A few days ago he didn't come into the kitchen for his breakfast, and when I went to his "sunny spot" to check on him, he just looked at me and purred, but didn't try to move. I was hoping that he'd feel better later in the day, but my husband called me at work to say that he still hadn't moved, and that he was coming to get me so that we could take him to the vets. When I got in the car I picked Ham up and he felt cold; he still purred when I held him, but I knew...The vet said that Ham was having kidney failure and because of his age there wasn't much to do but make him confortable until the end. I asked the vet to put him to sleep--I couldn't stand to see him suffer, even though it broke my heart to have him leave us. The vet left us alone for a few minutes to say goodby, and I told Ham about when we first saw him at the animal shelter, and that he was going to cross the Rainbows Bridge and see his friend Shadow again, and that I loved him with all my heart and that I would see him again. The vet came in and gave him a shot and Ham was gone in a minute. He was buried by a tree surrounded by grass and bathed in sunlight , because that's what he loved. R.I.P. Ham 8/12/2010