You were such a lovely cat! Fluffy, nice and so soft and cuddly. I liked to pick you up and bend you like an accordion, burying my face in your tummy fur…like entering planet furry, face first. I remember how you used to suck on your own tummy fur as a kitten. Gross! Dora used to suck on it too. Adorable! Until you kicked her off you…the beginning of sibling rivalry.
I remember when you rolled over in your sleep, right off the top shelf dropping 5 feet to the floor and landed on your back (not your bow-legged feet). Jolted awake you ran away from me as if I’d hurt you…and you just kept doing that…running away when I came up to you outside. Running out from under my feet in the house while I tripped over you. You loved to lay in the middle of the floor or on the top step of the stairs and startle right under us when we walked by. Nig almost fell down the stairs tripping over you. Bloody cat! Two weeks ago while we were eating lunch, you were lounging on your back, legs sprawled out, in the middle of the floor in the hallway in front of the bathroom…the busiest area in the house.
You wanted to be near us. You never went far from home or spent much time outside. You LOVED pets. Shamelessly. But only on your terms, of course. You hated being picked up or put somewhere, even when it was where you wanted to be. But one only had to sit still for a minute before you’d be looking for a pet and then a nice warm lap. You could be counted on to steal spots on the couch seconds after leaving. I don’t know how many times I dumped you on the floor, your body all warm and boneless, like pudding. Or how many times you lay there staring at me. I’ve never met a kitty who would look you right in the eye forever, heart wide open and waiting.
Or a kitty that liked to eat chips (through the bag), chocolate (through the wrapper), and butter (by the 1/4 cup). Or one that I caught sleeping in the frying pan on the stove.
My favourite thing about you was your love bonks. You would bump your head against any hand if it stopped petting you (to get it started again) but, very very rarely, you’d bonk it to a forehead. Ultimate kitty love.
Wherever you are, I hope you are being LOVED, little one.