R.I.P. Milo
A little over ten years ago, a scruffy yearling cat stood on our porch and said, "I live here now. Let me in!"
Today, we said goodbye.
Milo was the world's most amiable cat: laid-back, mellow, but always wanting to be involved in whatever was going on. Smart, brave, and affectionate, he loved muzzle rubs and rump pats and that spot at the base of the tail that induces caltitude. He could velcro himself to a lap before you'd quite finished sitting down, and he had an amazing ability, if he wasn't sitting on you already, to identify end-credit music and ensconce himself immovably on your lap so you had to sit and watch another three episodes. He loved food, and his adopted sister (and his big and little brothers, past and present), and catnip, and us.
Yesterday we had a lovely morning sitting outside in the sun, followed by an extended multi-stage afternoon nap on the nice cool living room carpet, with his people sitting nearby and petting. The cancer had taken away a lot of what he enjoyed, but he still made a beeline for my lap, or stretched out his paws to touch one of us. And there were several meals, and then off to bed for one last snuggle in my armpit, and one more early this morning, complete with a good loud purr. And then today, we gave him as peaceful an end as possible, the last thing we could do for him.
He never backed down from a fight in his life, but this was one he just couldn't win.
Goodbye, my little guy. You were the best of cats.
This entry was originally posted at http://lizvogel.dreamwidth.org/139523.html because I got tired of dealing with whatever LiveJournal had broken this time. Comment whereever.
Today, we said goodbye.
Milo was the world's most amiable cat: laid-back, mellow, but always wanting to be involved in whatever was going on. Smart, brave, and affectionate, he loved muzzle rubs and rump pats and that spot at the base of the tail that induces caltitude. He could velcro himself to a lap before you'd quite finished sitting down, and he had an amazing ability, if he wasn't sitting on you already, to identify end-credit music and ensconce himself immovably on your lap so you had to sit and watch another three episodes. He loved food, and his adopted sister (and his big and little brothers, past and present), and catnip, and us.
Yesterday we had a lovely morning sitting outside in the sun, followed by an extended multi-stage afternoon nap on the nice cool living room carpet, with his people sitting nearby and petting. The cancer had taken away a lot of what he enjoyed, but he still made a beeline for my lap, or stretched out his paws to touch one of us. And there were several meals, and then off to bed for one last snuggle in my armpit, and one more early this morning, complete with a good loud purr. And then today, we gave him as peaceful an end as possible, the last thing we could do for him.
He never backed down from a fight in his life, but this was one he just couldn't win.
Goodbye, my little guy. You were the best of cats.
This entry was originally posted at http://lizvogel.dreamwidth.org/139523.html because I got tired of dealing with whatever LiveJournal had broken this time. Comment whereever.