Our beloved tuxedo cat Sitka P. Coldfoot (named after not one, but two places in Alaska) passed away suddenly and unexpectedly last Tuesday at the far-too-young age of 11 1/2.
He had a huge personality, loved playing fetch with his toy mice, meowing along at rhythmically appropriate spots when anyone sang, staring down the birds on the patio, kneading us, taking baths (except for the rinse cycle), watching TV with us (especially dog TV), and meowing, urping, and chirping at us whenever we'd talk to him.
Sitka was a rescue kitty who had over 2000 friends on MySpace (back when that was a thing). He was smart enough to figure out that doorknobs were key to opening closed doors (but not evolved enough to have the opposable thumbs he needed to open the doors). He listened when I talked to him and was the first to come and comfort anyone who was sad.
He loved just being in the same room with us and helped us taught us all kinds of lessons about life and love.
He once saved the life of a turtle and would demand that we pay the "belly toll" before we could go upstairs to the living room.
He made sure we knew he loved us with all his heart and soul.
He was a gigantic personality in a small body and the hole he left behind can only be filled by the memory of how much we loved him and how much he loved us.
I liked to say that getting him to pose like that was easy, it was the teaching him how to read part that was hard.
Godspeed, little guy. I love you more than I can put into words.
Saturday Single No. 538
1 day ago