In Loving Memory of Inky

This is Inky...

For the last twelve years he's been happy to see me every time I came home, every time I entered a room, and every time I paid him the least bit of attention.

He had favorite spots in every room in the house.  The most important thing for him was that he was near either Neil or me.  

Every night when it was time for bed, I brought him with me. He jumped down of course - cats don't like to be put - but he came back a few minutes later to snuggle against one or the other of us until morning.  If we didn't bring him to bed he would sleep somewhere else.  He needed the invite.  We took hundreds of what we called "Morning Moo" pictures.  

We also called him Monkey Doodle.  Monkey loved to play. He loved it so much he'd wrap himself around my leg as I walked by and hang on as I did a step-drag, step-drag across the house.  He chased his tail in laundry baskets and in the bathtub, and he would randomly divert his path to bound through his tunnels around the house.  He loved to roughhouse and to be held upside down in our laps and in our arms.  He danced with me sometimes, up on his hind legs waving his arms around in the air.  Nothing annoyed him.  Not even kitty-feet playstation.

And he sure loved his toys.

He had a funny habit of sleeping on his back right in the middle of the room.

At 15 pounds, he was way too big to fit in my lap, but he didn't let that stop him.

Not ever.

He had a cat door and he loved going out to survey his territory.

I loved him very much.

And I miss him more than I can stand.

Goodbye Monkey Doodle.  May you rest in the very best sunbeams.

We will never forget you.