|If you think he's thinking "I didn't do it", you are right.|
Jeffrey George Taylor The Cat, better known as "Jeff the Cat", passed today.
He will not be remembered fondly by many. He had... personality. But Jeff was my little buddy, and I am going to miss him very much.
We didn't get along the first few years he lived with us, and I was, frankly, ready to get rid of him at the drop of a hat. Oddly, during that time, he saved my life.
I had an old oscillating fan, and one day I was working away on my computer in the era before laptops, and Jeff was circling my feet as cats do. Suddenly, he bolted out of the room, and I thought that was a bit peculiar so I turned around and the fan was a pillar of oscillating flame. I don't know if I would have died, exactly, but we would have certainly had a lot more property damage and many more problems if Jeff hadn't alerted me to the fire.
Still, we didn't really get along. But at some point when we lived in Phoenix, Jeff started hanging out with me in the mornings while I was showering and getting ready. And then started hanging out with me in the evenings after Jamie went to bed. And soon I had a little yellow shadow wherever I went.
I will never know why he picked me over Jamie. For years, she was far nicer to that cat than myself. But for the past decade, he's been my constant sidekick. And made it really hard to organize comics by walking all over them, chewing on comic bags, knocking over action figures and generally letting me know that if I was sitting on the floor, I was really supposed to be playing with him.
I am not sure I'll know when to wake up without him coming to get me. Or how I'll know when it's time to go to bed without him giving me a pointed look around midnight each evening. Or how to read a book or magazine without him rubbing his face against the edges and suggesting "hey, if you want to just stare at something, I'm your huckleberry". Or how one watches TV or movies without a cat making himself at home on your chest or on your leg. I assume I might now float away without the extra few pounds of cat to weigh me down.
We were with him when he went, and he went quietly and peacefully. 15 years is a good, long time, and for some time, as he's gotten older, my biggest concern was that he not live poorly if we could help it. We owed him, and I didn't want for him to have a single bad day.
We'll miss you, little buddy. You were loved very much.