February 11, 2017

A few years ago, while watching a scene unfold outside my home office window, I was pretty sure I was going to see our beloved cat Patrick killed. A winter-hungry fox, much larger than him, was coming out of the woods, on the prowl. Instead of trying to run away, Patrick not only stood his ground but angrily started walking towards the fox, who turned and ran back into the woods. I guess the fox decided he was just too much to deal with. Another time, I watched as he stood up to a herd of deer in the lower part of our backyard. He approached them, meowing loudly, and when he got about ten feet away they turned and ran into the woods as well. Not that they would have attacked him, but this cat didn't want them in his territory. He was small, agile and tough, and I have a feeling that he probably used up far more than his nine lives in his adventures in the woods around our home.

But he was a gentle and loving creature. Many nights he slept next to me; first he'd knead on my shoulder and then he'd curl up in the crook of my arm. A great mix, independent and super affectionate. He got sick a couple of months ago and the situation turned acute this week. He's been suffering the last couple of days but he died peacefully and purred when we held him after he got the sedative. We're so very sad.