A Farewell

I think everyone who knows me knows by now that one of my boy cats, Mr. Darcy, was diagnosed with advanced feline leukemia this Monday, after an emergency visit to the vet on Sunday. Darcy, at only 5, had a short, but extremely fulfilling, history with me.

Darcy had been rescued after someone got him at a flea market in Ohio and dumped him at one of my very best friend's houses (who was not equiped to care for a cat.) He rode home with me, in a Goodwill basket, and was cooed over at the McDonald's drive-thru, where we stopped for some chicken nuggets (for him and me!)

 He was a tiny, tiny boy. And loved the sink even as a baby.

He was precious.

If not sometimes spastic :-)

He grew up to be a precious teenage kitty too, filed permanently under "Adorable."

When Sebastian was introduced into the fold, he tried hard to mommy him as much as possible (sometimes against Sebastian's will.)

But he was a good mum.

He grew up shy, but had intense moments of cute and cuddly that were almost enough to stop your heart.

 You could find him in the oddest places. Even ones that didn't look big enough to squeeze into.

 And definitely in your laundry.

He loved nothing more than a good headbutt, which is probably what I will miss the most.

 Right along with the fact that the end of his tail was kinked, and always looked dirty since he had odd black fur that grew only there.

And sometimes he was just downright sweet.

Today, we spent a wonderful morning snuggling, he had a tuna snack, and then he went peacefully, with his head in my hand.

I could never ask for a better friend. You will be missed.