Toby the cat met his maker last Monday at a little after 10:00AM. I think he was somewhere around sixteen years old. I was with him at the moment of his passing. You will be comforted to know that his passing was peaceful.
Toby is survived by his keepers, namely, the wife and I. He did not, so far as I know, have any siblings and I never did meet his parents. His house, two cars, and remainder of his worldly goods have been left in our care until such time as another cat takes up residence. Toby was insistent that the heir to his fortune be an orange short hair such as he was.
Toby liked eating, sleeping, and otherwise ordering his keepers about. He was devoted to his cat nip mouse, the likes of which remain in the house until the new owner arrives. There is also an assigned spot on the front room couch that he instructed not to be set upon by any human at any time. It is reserved in his memory and for the sole use of his heir.
He and I had a conversation not long before he passed. He was angry with me, as I recall, because neither I nor my wife had given him any food, as of late, that he considered worthy of his pallet. I tried to explain to him that he had diabetes and this new food was meant to treat that. Cats, as you may know, have zero knowledge of medicine so he took instant and violent opposition to my claim. He had the temerity to accuse me of changing his food to save money. When I defended myself he excused me from the room. I spent the rest of that day in my bedroom.
On the day of his passing, we had our last discussion, during which he dismissed my claim that he was sick in the strongest of terms. I made the observation that he had gone from a very healthy sixteen pounds to just over eight in a few weeks’ time. He responded that his weight loss had been the direct result of the lousy food we had given him. His final comment to me was to pee on my jacket.
Toby was a special part of our lives. We will miss him. Rest well, little buddy.