What Happened?!

I remember one time I was doing some "smash" therapy with a 25 pound dumbbell

and in the middle of doing so, I dropped the weight to the ground. 

25 pounds. On the floor. 

It made a deafening thud, and you, drinking water, skittered out of the kitchen, puffing yourself as large as you possibly could and made a sound. The sound, paired with the look in your eyes could only be interpreted as "what happened?"

I too, now, sitting on this couch, looking at your lifeless body wrapped in a pink blanket am left to ask that question. I remember the day we got you, Amanda and I ventured to the Lakewood Animal Shelter. When we got there, we asked if any cats were available. At first, they told us no. You were in quarantine to ensure that you were healthy before they adopted you out. But, then he said "Well, I have one neutered male who's ready to be adopted tomorrow. Would you like to take a look at him?". We nodded. And they brought you to us, and placed you in Amanda's arms. You immediately started purring. You, in all of your gangly glory won our hearts. They originally said we'd have to come back tomorrow to pick you up, but then decided "well enough". You came home with us that day. 

You whined, so much so that Amanda indicated her heart was breaking on the way home from the shelter. We let you out of the crude cardboard carrier that they placed you in and you immediately sunk in to a submissive position. We weren't sure how this was going to work out. They tell you to slowly introduce cats to each other; but in 500 square feet, you don't always have that luxury. You and Mao sniffed each other, and despite the normal grumpiness, you took to each other immediately.

You were very much a street cat. The first time you used the litter box, it made clear that your diet must have been comprised mostly of garbage. For the first several months, your appetite was insatiable. I remember on St. Patty's Day a few years ago, you stole a piece of corned beef that (at the time) was the size of your body and tried to drag it off somewhere to consume it. Josh grabbed you, and shook you, but you wouldn't let go. Later that evening, you took a Dorito from Amanda with such haste that you tore her finger open.

I will always remember that you must have understood the shower to be some medieval torture chamber. Each morning, when I'd get in the shower, I'm told you'd whine inconsolably, and then when I'd get out, you'd run in to the bedroom, and jump on to the dresser and purr as though you thought I would never come back from that "steam chamber". 

Your affection was the best. When you wanted affection, you wanted it. At any cost. If we stopped petting you, your claws would splay out and gently grace our hand. You'd bite our noses. Though these are things that you and your kind consider affection, we as humans generally don't do to each other. We assumed you were conflicted about your love for us. You were like "DAMNIT. WHY DO I LOVE AND NEED YOU SO MUCH?".

You often slept in a fashion that was unbecoming of a cat. I'd regularly walk in to a scene like this:

May you sleep that same way upon those clouds you're amongst. May you have infinite mousies to play with.  I love you, and miss you much. Thanks for being such a good friend to Amanda and I.