my 18 year old cat just died, and I don't know how to cope so imma just write about him here.
I got him for my 8th birthday. He was tiny, and so mean! he was biting anything and everything.
He only liked one kind of wet food, and he wouldn't eat anything else.
He only went in his litter box once. As soon as there was a trace of pee inside, he wouldn't use it. he would shit regularly just right in front of the box.
he liked getting brushed. Every time he came inside he jumped straight into the bath tub and demanded (loudly) to get brushed.
we had a big tree in the backyard with one branch nearly reaching the bedroom window on the first floor. so every morning he would climb said tree and scream in front of the window until someone got up and made him breakfast.
my childhood bedroom window was on the ground floor, and our car would park in front of it. so in some nights he would jump onto the car roof and scream into my room until I opened the window to let him inside.
he would always sleep on his back, but you could never touch the belly.
when he slept in my bed, he would usually sleep on my chest or my legs.
he had his own place at the table where he would sit for every meal.
he once hid a dead bird inside my shoe.
he lost his hearing when he turned 16. ever since then he was always screaming at the top of his lungs whenever he couldn't find us.
he was stealing really expensive koi fish from our neighbors pond.
he was scared of chickens.
he hated dogs with a passion.
he had a cat friend. they would wait for each other in our garden and go on adventures together.
he knew how to escape his transport box. when we would take him to the vet, he'd climb out of his box and onto my lap.
his name was Max. and I miss him.
