Our cat got run over a few weeks ago. We finally told our kids. We wanted to make sure that it actually was Stripey that got killed before we told them that. It'd be too confusing to tell them that maybe Stripey was dead, and then have him trotting into the garage a few days later.
It's been a long time now, and Stripey still hasn't shown.
He was really needy for an outdoor mouser. Constantly rubbing against our legs and knocking down poor M. Always sprinting to the house from who-knows-where anytime the door was opened. Meowing annoyingly any time we were outside playing. BUT he was a nice cat. Patient when M, as a baby, would pull his tail. And he played along with the kids' games when they would pretend he was a tiger, who of course, needed to be placed on the trampoline (circus ring) or hauled up the stairs of the swing set. He complied when the kids wanted to hand feed him, one piece of food at a time, and he sometimes left his random dead bird or mouse part in the yard to show how much he loved us.
He'll be missed by all of us. Even if my eyes are a lot less itchy these days.
Bye, Stripe. We loved you, and we're sorry if your name went against the cool attack cat image you maybe wanted to portray.
