You had a damn good run. What was it, 14 years? Something like that. A long time.
|Click to see larger|
To be perfectly frank, we put up with a lot of crap from you. Knocking over water glasses, throwing pens to the ground, destroying homework, stealing food, shredding paper...
...not to mention declaring your triumph over your Nemesis (small green toy) in the wee hours of the morning, not unlike this:
You were also in the way enough that we started referring to that situation as "helpful like a Crooked" and have since applied the term to people.
To be fair, you put up with a lot of crap from us, too. Being puppeted, helmeted, worn as a hat, intentionally confused, dressed up...
|Plus that one time Husband and Roommate decided to throw a |
birthday party for the cats as an excuse to get a cake.
The cats did not have any cake.
...put in snow...
I'm not the only one with stories. Other people could tell them, too. You've touched a lot of lives, shed on a lot of clothes.
There was that time when I was in college and woke up in the middle of the night to find you doing battle with a remote control that had fallen into the water dish. You probably knocked off the night stand.
Or the time you nearly gave that guy a stroke because he was terribly afraid of cats and you settled into his lap like he was an old friend.
Or when you ran away for a month, and when you got tired of eating sunshine and butterflies, sauntered up to some girls in a townhouse to demand food and affection.
Or when we were eating Thanksgiving dinner and heard a rustling noise in the kitchen that turned out to be you on the counter with your head in the ham.
You were a bright spot in my most difficult days, and you saw me through to the best part of my life. I knew that even if nobody else ever loved me with all their heart, you did.
Rest in peace, buddy. I'll see you on the other side.