by Merrilee McMurray
This morning, I had to say goodbye to my companion of 17 years, 42 or Fatboy as he later came to be called. He had lymph node cancer and his quality of life had deteriorated to such a point that euthanization was a blessing.
I just wanted to leave a little memorial for him by talking about the things he used to do as a kitten, and as a grown-up cat.
He was very playful as a kitty, and used to sleep in my shoes. He was also very protective of me and used to hiss at all my new boyfriends, when I was single. When he met my husband, at first he didn't like him either, but it even got to the point where his ears would perk up and he'd run to the door to greet my husband when he heard his car.
He loved donuts and especially, raisin tea biscuits.
I can remember when DH and I were dating, DH brought home Dunkin' Donuts in a plastic bag and left them on the kitchen table. We woke up to a trail of donut crumbs through the living room... we followed the trail to the kitchen... and there he was, the culprit, pawing at the box he chewed his way through and trying to pull out the rest of the donut he mangled. He looked up at us as if to say, "Hey Mom, why'd you make it so hard for me to get at my donut?"
He also used to watch where I put the container of tea biscuits (usually in a kitchen cabinet, or else I know he'd get up to whereever they were and chew the box open) and wait until I left the room. One night, I was sitting in my living room and I heard bang-bang, bang coming from the kitchen. It was my Fatboy, sitting on top of the microwave and trying to open the spring loaded kitchen cabinets with his paw to get at the tea biscuits! The cabinet kept banging shut every time he got it open.
He was a warm, loving, cuddly guy who loved to sleep with me and if I didn't get up in enough time to feed him, he'd sit on my chest and lightly slap my face with his paw to wake me up.
I love him and I already miss him terribly. But I know that he's gone on to a better place and I will see him again someday.