Godspeed, Little Man

With pets, as with children, you're not supposed to have a favorite, but I have to admit that ever since he showed up on our porch that cold November night back in 2002, I've always loved Owen the best. The girls are haughty, as female felines often are, but Owen was more like a puppy, always so grateful to have us around. Even that first time we met him, he greeted us at the front door.

Whether he ran away from or was abandoned by his previous family, we never knew, and after he stuck around that first night, it never again mattered. He spent the first 24 hours of his life with us on the front porch of the townhouse in Harleysville, wrapped in one of my husband's childhood blankets. That was right after we decided we wanted to start trying to have a baby. We got him instead, and never once regretted it.

I can't remember where his name came from, but it suited him. Owen is an earnest sort of name, and Owen was an earnest sort of cat. He was slightly neurotic, and would follow us all over the house. He was always underfoot, looking for approval, even after more than seven years with us. He put up with a lot of crap from the girl cats, who treated him like a stepchild. But as long as we left food in his dish and room in our bed, he was satisfied.

Oh, and how Shae loved him! And how he loved her right back! When I was home with her, right after the placement, she crawled everywhere after him -- in fact, when she started walking, it was because she couldn't keep up with him on all fours any more. One day she got up and toddled after him, and she's been running after him ever since. She always wanted to know where he was, but it was almost never a question, because he was where she was. Her room was his favorite place in the house, and he tolerated endless tail-pullings and accidental eye-pokings to be there.

I never had pets before I lived with my husband, and Owen was the first thing we had that was truly ours, that we loved unconditionally and that loved us back likewise. There were never any strings with this guy, never any obligations except to love and be loved. He was our baby, our guildmate, our friend, our mouse-catcher, our foot warmer, our sometime-babysitter.

He found us. He loved us. He nuzzled us and purred at us and rescued us and saved us when we were at a very low point. He made our great days that much better, and our happy times so much sweeter. And there are not words, never will be words, for how much I will miss him.

He died earlier today, and a very big, soft, mushy, fuzzy, noisy, sweet, green-eyed piece of my heart died with him.

We love you, Buddy, and we miss you already. Always will.

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
My love will fly to you each night on angel's wings
Godspeed, sweet dreams ...
-- Radney Foster