We had to say good-bye to my dear friend Pixel today.
He was eighteen years old and had been in decline for a couple of years due to chronic renal failure, which is always fatal.
I had him since he was a kitten. He used to climb my bedspread and sit on the edge of my bed, triumphant at his grand accomplishment. As an adult cat he was shy with strangers, but a lovebug with me and Dan. He was playful until almost the end, still willing to chase a catnip mouse as recently as two weeks ago. His final decline was rapid and painful to see.
He leaves a big hole in my life, but eighteen years together does that. It was a longer relationship than I've had with my husband!
Pix and Tidbit were great friends, as you can see here:
When we moved to this house two and a half years ago, Pixel cowered in his carrier, scared to come out, while Tid waited patiently at the carrier door for more than a day. Sometimes she'd poke her head in, sometimes she would thump at him, as if to say, "Hurry up!" Most of the time, she just laid there, waiting.
I like to think they're together again. No doubt she's been wondering what was taking him so long.