Not a Happy Caturday today, it's a sad one for me.
This is my sweet, gentle, lovely old boy, Mickey.
I rescued him from a life he wouldn't have survived and he spent the rest of his days as if I were his safe place. He adored me, and I adored him. He was such a handsome boy with that upside down white heart on his face being the first thing you saw, then those magnificently long whiskers, almost like a sea lion. He was always nearby, always following me, always checking I was still there, always on my lap, always purring loudly, always smiling that lazy half smile that cats are so good at.
I haven't posted about him much, but he also followed me when I walked our dogs, so it was quite a sight sometimes: our two tiny dogs, followed by two cats bigger than them. When he was younger he let himself be carried around covered in ribbons and dressed up in outfits, wrapped in blankets, and even put to bed like a baby with bows and hairclips in his fur. And he never protested; he just kept purring and smiling. I actually think he enjoyed it. He loved crisps, tummy rubs, salmon, Amazon boxes, wrapping paper, chunks of melon, and most of all, falling asleep on my shoulder or lap. He never scratched, never hissed, never clawed at anyone. He never hurt a soul.
Everyone loved him. You couldn't not.
You don't get a cat like that twice. He's taken a piece of my heart with him and left a hole the same shape as that heart shaped mark on his face and I'm truly heartbroken. His favourite scruffy blanket, the one he's had since he was a baby, is still in his corner in my room because I can't bear to move it, and I don't think I ever will.
All in all, he was just gentle and loving and so very beautiful.
Rest easy, my sweet old boy.
R.I.P. King Mickey.
๐ค