Goodbye Orange Friend

It's a sad day at Chez Daddy L. After using eight of her nine lives surviving kidney disease, Septicemia and Meningitis two years ago, our cat of 13 years, Orange Cat, has succumb to cancer. The day she strolled in our backdoor, hissed at us and wouldn't leave we knew we had ourselves a special cat. She had a way of charming the pants off of you while secretly taking a shit in your dresser. Orange Cat had more personality wrapped in her furry torso than most of the people I know (which either means she is very special, or I have to meet more people. I like to think the former). Clever, sensitive and loving she was adored by everyone who was lucky enough to meet her, including The Boy.

While he'll never remember her, we'd like to think Orange Cat affected him in some way. She accepted The Boy as part of the family quickly, and tolerated his tail-pulling, slapping, fur-grabbing with purrs mostly. And as she did with all of us, whenever he was really upset she'd come by to cheer him up.

I could eulogize OC for days, but I think it's easiest to say: We can always get ourselves another orange cat, but there will only ever be one Orange Cat.

Goodbye Orange Cat. We miss you.