Farewell

I remember you, my sweet friend, the day I saw your furry little face looking back at me from inside your kennel. You stared defiantly, daring me to walk away. And, of course, I couldn't. And so began our time together.

You stayed with me through the coldest winter in 50 years, keeping my feet warm as I slept through the night. You greeted me everyday with that kitty smile, that demanding meow; "I'm hungry," you said. Yes, I had to clean up plants that you knocked over and vases that you broke.....but that was who you were. You were naughty, playful, furry.

You were always accepting, always there even when I was at my lowest point. You knew when I was sad and quietly came up and snuggled next to me on my beat-up couch. You made me laugh when you attacked your bowl of cat food like it was a wild beast. You'd shake your mouthful of crunchies as if you had a mouse in a death grip.

And then you bravely made a 17-hour drive with me, scared at first, but gradually accepting. You stayed at my feet for most of that long drive, meowing helpfully every so often. For a confirmed house cat, you made the transition to outdoor cat beautifully....now when I think of you, it is roaming the yard, your puffy tail waving out behind. No matter how far away you were, you always heard me call you and would come tearing around the corner to find me.

Most of all, I remember how you looked while you sat at the top of the stairs out back. You had your sweet little face turned towards the sun, sitting quietly with your furry white chest puffed out with joy. I will always recall how happy you looked as you oversaw your outside domain. That is how I shall remember you.

Ferdinand, you were a comfort to Dad when he was in pain, you were a source of laughter to Mom after a bad day, and you were my little gift. I'm so happy to have known you. I am thankful that your funny little face was peaceful when they found you, because that is always how you made me feel. Farewell, little guy. You will be missed.