Triumphrat

Cynr1023 · 01-21-2008

My cat just died on Thursday. Heart failure. I had him for 12 years. From the day I rescued him, literally, as a little orange ball of fur that would fit in my hand. My buddy thought it was funny when his dog, a two year old rott, went after a stray kitten, but stopped laughing when I grabbed the dog by the throat and pitched him into a wall. The cat has been my "buddy" ever since. He'd follow me around the house, sit next to me where ever I sat down. Hang out in the garage when I was working on something, and be a general pain in the *** to my wife when I went on deployment. I remember him sitting on my shoulder on the car ride to the house, with his nose stuck in my ear purring like he didn't have a care in the world. I had fully intended on taking him to a shelter but when he wouldn't let my wife or daughter pick him up and he'd waddle over to me and climb onto my shoe; I knew he was a keeper. So, why do I feel so pathetic about missing my cat?
This is the monster he grew into, and yes that's a full size magazine under his head:

(incidentally, the dog wasn't hurt, just stunned. He sat there and looked at me with his tongue lolling out; like we had just played a new game and he was trying to figure out the rules; while I picked up the kitten) And, I'm a "dog person" but being in the Army is not conducive to properly raising a pooch.
and we always called him Kitten.