Popsicle was my cat. She put up with everything thing I did to her (with only the best of intentions, of course) as a small child and loved me anyway. For 18 years, she slept with me, sat on my lap while I watched TV and while I worked on the computer, followed me around the house and came when I called (well, usually. She was, after all, a CAT).
Popsicle died in the summer (Augest? September? It's all a blur now) of 2003.
Rest in peace, fuzzmuffin.
Aw! Look at that face!
Tiger was my mother's cat and Popsicle's litter mate. Tiger died in November of 2001 of kedney failure. He was an old kitty. Over 16. It was all rather traumatic for all of us:( It was my first personal encounter with death. Other than the death of my father's father, but I was very young then I hadn't known him very well. Though I noted, with a vague sense of guilt, that dead cats are considerably less stressful that DYING cats.