What could I possibly say about him? He could be adoring. He could be aggravating. He could be funny. He could be finicky. He could be loyal. He could be lazy.
The most important thing he could be for me was my friend. He fulfilled that role quite well. Even though we didn't speak the same language, we certainly had a mutual understanding. He seemed to know just when to cut me some slack. He would curl up by my stomach and gently knead at it. Somehow he always knew to do this when I had a stomach ache. The ache would soon fade away as his body heat eased my cramped muscles.
He would give me a look of disdain when I did such ungainly things like belching. He was rather refined in his striped suit. He was graceful as he would stalk about the desk, nimbly hopping around the computer keyboard, occasionally changing my internet destinations for me.
And then a sad thing happened. Around the same time I began to have struggles with the health of my kidney, so did my small (it's a relative thing) fury companion. I always knew he understood my issues, as we faced down this common enemy.
It took me almost a year to realize a substantial recovery. I wish I could say the same thing about my friend. I watched him lose more than half his body weight. It became evident that it was time for him to part from this life. My husband and I made the difficult choice to take our dear companion to the vet for the last time.
I am sharing about our bubby as a tribute to him. I realize that there are those that would wonder why I grieve over a cat. Some people don't really consider cats to even be proper pets. I have heard someone say he was just a cat. It is true. Taz was a cat. He was also a sweet friend and a valued member of our family. He will be missed. He will always be remembered.