At 1111 Frog Hollow Road, Gomez was king. He showed up mysteriously in our yard one day when I was in sixth grade, knowing he belonged. My parents tried to give him away - twice - to neighboring farms with lots of rats, but he wasn't interested. He knew our house was it, and popped up a few hours later. For him, the next 17 years were lovely: My mom overfed him several times a day, he wracked havoc on the bird population, bullied male cats (and dogs) who crossed into our yard, roamed and befriended a few harmless female ones. For me, Gomez was always my consistent, he saw me through the ups and downs of middle and high school. He was a welcome sight when I'd come home from college on holidays, he was there demanding attention when times were tough and I couldn't imagine thinking beyond myself. He liked to be covered with newspaper. He liked to sleep in the exact middle of the bed, a 20 pound lump that expected you to get comfortable, but not if it meant he lost beauty sleep. Then last year the tumors started to show. We started to call him our Picasso cat, as one cheek jutted out, and then his spine. He lost weight. And tonight he left us. But 18 years of happiness is all you can really ask for - for him and for us.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Posted by Eden From Sweden at 9:39 PM