I have been writing a post over the past week on health care that I cannot seem to finish at the moment. My little world that deals with all things financial cannot compete with my little friend Stormy, so if I can, today I want to discuss him.
On Saturday my wife and I found out that one of our cats, Stormy, had unfortunately been killed by a coyote. There are millions of things to say, feelings to express, and memories to share, but the end result is that when you don't have kids, your pets become your kids.
Stormy was found in Conyers, Georgia just over nine years ago by a neighbor in a storm drain (thus you get Stormy now). He was a little runt of an orange tabby kitten that had a bloated stomach from being malnourished and was covered in fleas. Needless to say, my wife and I immediately had a soft spot for the little guy. Three weeks later, he had gained 2 pounds, did not have a single flea on him, and was enjoying the life of a spoiled kitten.
Stormy grew into a big cat that even at 14 pounds was not overweight for him. He had a birthmark black spot on one of his front paws that we mistook for an oil stain at first. He was the "king of neighborhood" as one of my neighbor's liked to say. He would lay with front paws stretched out and crossed in front of him as if everyone else was his servant. He was obviously the top of the pyramid when it came to our cats and those in the neighborhood, yet he rarely showed the fierceness within him.
To my wife and me he was the big lovable orange tabby that would get in your lap or face if you weren't paying him enough attention. He was there watching me work in the yard, talk to neighbors, or waiting for me to get home to play. He was almost always the first to come when I whistled to call the cats home at night. His ears would perk up, and I would see him trotting home.
We know pets are sadly not with us along as we want, but we are grateful to them for the times we do get to share. Stormy was a sweet boy that came into our lives completely unexpected nine years ago and sadly left just as quick yesterday. We will miss him, but we know he is always in our hearts and minds.
On Saturday my wife and I found out that one of our cats, Stormy, had unfortunately been killed by a coyote. There are millions of things to say, feelings to express, and memories to share, but the end result is that when you don't have kids, your pets become your kids.
Stormy was found in Conyers, Georgia just over nine years ago by a neighbor in a storm drain (thus you get Stormy now). He was a little runt of an orange tabby kitten that had a bloated stomach from being malnourished and was covered in fleas. Needless to say, my wife and I immediately had a soft spot for the little guy. Three weeks later, he had gained 2 pounds, did not have a single flea on him, and was enjoying the life of a spoiled kitten.
Stormy grew into a big cat that even at 14 pounds was not overweight for him. He had a birthmark black spot on one of his front paws that we mistook for an oil stain at first. He was the "king of neighborhood" as one of my neighbor's liked to say. He would lay with front paws stretched out and crossed in front of him as if everyone else was his servant. He was obviously the top of the pyramid when it came to our cats and those in the neighborhood, yet he rarely showed the fierceness within him.
To my wife and me he was the big lovable orange tabby that would get in your lap or face if you weren't paying him enough attention. He was there watching me work in the yard, talk to neighbors, or waiting for me to get home to play. He was almost always the first to come when I whistled to call the cats home at night. His ears would perk up, and I would see him trotting home.
We know pets are sadly not with us along as we want, but we are grateful to them for the times we do get to share. Stormy was a sweet boy that came into our lives completely unexpected nine years ago and sadly left just as quick yesterday. We will miss him, but we know he is always in our hearts and minds.
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