Our beloved Yellow Cat crossed over the Rainbow Bridge on Tuesday.
We were not expecting to lose him, so finding out that a silent illness had sapped him of his strength and very lifeblood was a horrible blow. It is never easy to say goodbye; it is especially difficult to bid farewell to a soul as gentle as Yellow Cat.
I remember when he first started to hang out around our house years ago. He would show up from time to time, disappear, then reappear. We'd say, "There's that yellow cat again," and when he started coming closer and we'd feed him, we'd simply call him Yellow Cat.
When he finally became part of our home, after showing up during a blizzard, the name just stuck.
We never knew exactly how old he was, since he had come to us as an adult.
Yellow Cat had a penchant for sitting around with his tongue sticking out a bit -- just part of his special, gentle personality. He was a lover, not a fighter. He sought out laps, loved to be petted, enjoyed soft pillows and gentle touches.
Yellow Cat was such a sweet, old soul. Each of our cats is precious in his or her own way, and each one is an individual. Having many does not mean we do not mourn the loss of each one when his or her time comes. There are not enough words to capture his personality and all that he meant to us over the years.
He soothed many of our sorrows, brightened our days, prompted us to laugh and, in the end, to shed many tears.
Sweet, sweet boy, we will never forget you.
Thank you for enriching our lives...
