George

George was born in May of 1995 and died late this afternoon after a courageous battle with cancer. (Even kitties deserve a proper obituary). He had been sick for quite awhile and we were surprised that he held on this long. We will surely miss him.
Back when we could still let the kitties out to play - before coyotes, eagles, the semi-paving of the road which brought speeding cars, and crazy neighbors who thought of cats and dogs as target practice - he loved playing outside and sleeping in the sun. He was the only cat we ever had who chased, and caught, frogs. He would lick them until he just about licked their skin off. He rarely ate them, just played with them. He also liked to wander, even though he knew he wasn't allowed across the road. We'd call when we couldn't find him and it was time to come inside at the end of the day and then he would suddenly appear, as if out of nowhere. Then one day we caught him running full speed down the hill across the street and sneaking into the yard where he suddenly sat down and started taking a bath, as if he'd been there all the time. That was near the time we stopped letting any of them out. Just not safe.

My bread mixing bowl has always been a favorite of all of the cats. This was George's turn. Actually, if they try, two of them can share this huge bowl.

George and Linus were great friends and loved being outside together. Linus was even harder to find than George because his coloring so closely matched the mulch and he loved to hide under some of the giant hostas.

When someone has been a daily companion for so long, it's hard to say goodbye, but he will always with me in my heart, even though he'll no longer be napping in a sunbeam on the porch.