I always find it funny how those little strange creatures we call pets become family. I mean, cats are pretty much meowing, eating machines that pay attention to you when it’s convenient for them with varying degrees of affection. We had a mostly outdoor cat who, for the last 14 years, was friendlier than most cats and constantly in and out of the door just to remind us of his existence. He was the kitten who perched on the dashboard of my mother’s car, waiting for me to get out of middle school. (That didn’t last long after he figured out the car also went to the vet.) He was my extra black shadow whenever I went outside. He was the one who we’re pretty sure roamed miles away from the house but always managed to come back to stare at us through the window.
Rest in Peace, Martin the Warrior. I’m glad I was home to see you off.