Bye-bye
After spending three days in kitty critical care for sudden kidney failure of unknown origin, Turkey Boy "Turk"/"Fuzzbutt"/"numnums!" has passed on to greater hunting grounds and that big old Sunbeam In The Sky. He came into my life after Ethel died, when I needed someone to love. He stayed in my life through the thick and the thin, always providing that little center of unconditional love that every person needs. He was a cat filled with energy and character. He loved pepsi boxes, playing catch through the door jamb, and licking pineapples. He never had a problem with his feet being touched, and he loved having his belly rubbed when he rolled on his back.
Turk was a cuddly lover, not a fighter (except for one wayward bird that somehow got into a locked, unopened apartment), preferring to run when he accidentally tipped the fish bowl on top of himself and knocked him into the toilet.
He died the day after my birthday, four days before my wedding. I told him it was a lousy birthday gift, but Turk was a cat, and he just did things on his own.