My cat's name was Houdini, named after the great magician because he would "disappear" for a long time and then come back out of nowhere. Houdini and I were unseperable, or so I thought. I was seven years old at the time, and I used to be really afraid of thunderstorms. There was a big thunderstorm one night and I was curled up wide eyed in my bed with the comforter over my nose. Houdini jumped up on the bed and curled up right next to my head, sleeping with me the whole night through. I found him there still sleeping the next morning. Houdini would also jump into my lap whenever I was sitting down, curling up and purring like an engine. Mom would always say that she could hear that cat in the other side of the house. Well, one day during the winter when there was snow piled a foot high on the ground, he just so happened to do one of his disappearing acts. I waited patiently for his return, but he never came back. Months passed and still no sight of Houdini. I was starting to grow uneasy, thinking horrible thoughts of him getting crushed under the unforgiving tires of a car, or even freezing to death under the blanket of winter's snow. A couple more months passed and with a great deal of sorrow, I accepted the fact that Houdini was never going to come back. I started into the sixth grade, and in one of my creative writing classes we had to write about a pet (living or deceased) that we loved most in the world. Of course, I wrote about Houdini. After the class listened to my story and gave me remourse over his loss, one of my classmates (who happens to live 3 houses away from me) said he knew what had happened to him. Houdini had discovered a pan of anti-freeze in his back yard and drank it. I was so upset that I cried until my face was soar in front of the entire class. To this day I mourn the death of my pet, Houdini. He lives forever in my heart and in my memory, even if he is in heaven in God's right hand. I will forever miss and love Houdini, my precious pal.