A eulogy for a cat.

The sound of a downpour is a welcome sound to a sleepless night. Aside from the computer, my company is Quincy. He lies on my lap and purrs away our sorrow. Today he lost his adopted younger brother. Charlie was living with a chronic illness for a while now. Chris and I made the decision months ago, but today we acted upon it before his illness turned to suffering as today there was a turning.

A eulogy for a cat.

First, Prince Rillion. Then Lily. Next, the gender-neutral Charlie for our rescued kitten. We would call Charlie "he", because one testicle was removed during the spay/neuter. Cautious and careful. Charlie used to hiss at Quincy when we returned with Quincy from the groomers, shaved. Quiet. He rarely mewed. Affectionate. Charlie loved head pats and would greet me in the morning with purrs. Snuggles on my lap with Rylyn when she was born. Crying when she did out of concern. Patient. He wore the Halloween costumes I dressed him up in each year. Quirky and maimed from birth, we loved you anyway. We will miss knowing you aren't lurking around the corner, but will embrace the peace of your passing.

Charlie. Charles. Charleton. Char char. Kitty. 2006-2011.