Sonny Come Home

I'm not a cat person. I'm a dog person. Lindsay is my constant companion, and although it may perhaps sound ... silly? ... we have a fantastic relationship.

I've had lots of cats during my lifetime. Lots and lots of cats. There has been Celtic, Henrietta, Nike, BC, Minnow, Epitome, Shadow, Otis, Bailey, and at least a dozen or two unnamed barn cats. Maybe it's because of the sheer number of them, but none are particularly special to me. There have been a couple with distinctive personalities, but none like Sonny.

Yes, this is a eulogy of sorts for Sonny. I'm not even sure if he's gone to the big litter box in the sky, but he hasn't been home for weeks. It's possible he's sauntered into another house with children and just decided to shed somewhere else.


Sonny was a remarkable cat for one specific reason. He was the most tolerant, patient, affectionate cat I've ever known. Ever. I have even sent him on a diplomatic mission of sorts, when a family considering adding a cat to the household needed to take a test drive. A test cat . . . a stunt cat . . . a cat consultant was required, and Sonny had a grand time on vacation.

My hardened heart isn't so concrete that I won't miss him nor wish he'll show up again one day. Most difficult for me was when my daughter Nicole came home after time away with my wife in NH. One of the very first things she said to me was "I can't wait to see Sonny!"


Ugh.

So far there has been little more mention of Sonny. What Nicole may or may not remember as she grows up is that Sonny allowed her to pick him up ... by any available limb or patch of skin ... and carry him around with her. He never bit nor scratched, just faced his duty with an admirable sense of duty and perhaps stoicism. He was a floppy and furry purring machine. Moreover, he actually followed Nicole around the house and the yard. When Nicole sat down or fell asleep, Sonny would simply plop himself down with her and go to sleep too.


To Sonny! Raise a can of Friskies to him! Just don't actually consume it because, well, the smell alone would make a billy goat gag.