Obi came into my life via my college boyfriend, Kurt. He was several hours late to come visit me, and I was quite upset. In fact, I was still bitching him out when he handed me something to carry into the apartment. I was halfway to my door when I realized I was holding a cat carrier, and there was a tiny face staring at me through the door. After college, Obi went to live with my mother (mean landlords!), but he’s always been my cat.
Obi was the best cat I’ve ever owned. He was extremely personable. He wanted to sit on your lap and watch TV with you. He wanted to play all the time, and for the first two years would even fetch. He knew when you were sad and would sit with you. He loved Eggo waffles. He had a schedule in the morning, as he knew when everyone got up and when the neighbors walked by. He loved EVERYONE.
I got to sit with him for awhile last Friday. He was overweight for most of his adult life, so to see him wasted away was devastating to me. He crawled into my lap, which was so hard for him, because he was so weak, and put his head on my arm. I cried for probably 15 minutes straight. So much, at least, than when I was leaving, I heard my grandmother say from the other room, “Why is the cat wet?”
Mom pointed out that he was saying goodbye, but I wasn’t yet ready to hear that. And now there is a cat-shaped hole in my heart. Future cats have a high bar to cross now, Obes. Rest in peace.