He woke me every morning by standing on my chest and rubbing his little pink, wet nose into my nose. "Good morning! Wake up! Most importantly, feed me!" When I stood from bed, he led me by meowing to the closet where he knew his food was stored. If I stopped walking or took a different path, he would stand by me and meow until I followed him again... all the while turning his head to be certain I was taking his lead.

When I bathed, he would sit on the side of the tub and use his paw to play with the massive mountain of bubbles.

One of my favorite things he did... tail flicks. Whenever I said his name, he would flick his tail a bit. Even if he was terribly tired and half asleep, he would at least acknowledge me with a flick of his tail.

He loved to open cabinets with his paws and crawl inside to hide. He hid in closets as well. In fact, he loved hiding even as a kitten. When I first got him, he hid in a box behind a piece of furniture and stayed so long I thought he had wondered out the front door and had gotten lost. He loved laying in boxes, in suit cases, in backpacks... any tight quarters that he could claim for his own.

High places were fun for him. He found humor in striking as I would walk by. From the top of the refrigerator, top of the cabinets, plant shelves along the ceiling. He almost seemed to laugh when he knew he startled you.

He was a great guard cat. Before leaving the house, I always reminded him to allow no elephants inside while I was gone. Never once did I come home to find an elephant. And he could be quite threatening... just ask anyone on the receiving end of his hiss... or anyone who touched his hind legs (aside of me of course). And none of the squirrels or birds dared to taunt him from the trees outside my third-floor apartment window wall.

He came when I called his name. Unlike snooty cats who seek affection on their terms, he came out of hiding from the closet, or leaped from the top of the refrigerator, or meandered from behind the window curtain whenever I called for him. Just like a dog.

Manners did not escape him. He was terribly polite in that he never used his box whenever I was home. He always waited until I left. On occasion, I fooled him by making only a small trip to the mailbox. When I returned, he appeared wide-eyed as if having been caught with his paw in the cookie jar (or in this case, the litter box).

He loved to play. Fishing and hide-n-seek were his favorite games. Fishing was played with an object (usually a feather or a bell) tied with a string to the end of a plastic pole. He could chase that thing around until he fell out with exhaustion. Hide-n-seek was another fun game he loved. I would hide behind the bar or around the corner and stick my head out just enough to peak at him. He would sneak up on me as if approaching prey... slowly, cautiously, side-winding... until one of us attacked. I usually attacked first, which would send him running through the house at top speed with his tail puffed. When he attacked first, he pounced on me and leaped back to see what I was gonna do. Of course, I attacked and that would again send him running through the house at top speed with his tail puffed.

Dorittos, sour cream, and sweet tea were among this favorite snacks. But he would fight you for a turkey sandwich.

He will be missed.

Stormy
12/00 - 12/11/04