So. Last weekend I had to go home unexpectedly to watch/drive around Braeden and Marissa while my parents went to St. George for my great uncle's funeral. And on Saturday, Tonx passed away. My darling, handsome, personality-filled cat died after a long fight with a failing immune and digestive system. Although it wasn't unexpected, it still hurt.
Ah....the playlist is failing.
I know it sounds so cliché, like some scene out of a movie, but he was so cute the night before he died. The basement was full of strangers (who he always ran away from) for Braeden's birthday party but he came out when I came up to scoop ice cream for the boys. He was meowing more high pitched and sweeter than he usually does and I picked him up and cuddled him. Kissed his adorable little head. And then he reached his paw out to my face, which he's never done before. The last time I saw him I was watching TV in my parent's room. He came in and I put my hand down to pet him until he left.
Anyway, Marissa and I found him the next day. I knew something was wrong because I hadn't heard him all day, and he's always been very vocal about being fed when he wants to. Marissa and I went from dancing outside in the rain and splashing in puddles to suddenly not knowing what to do next. We buried him on Sunday, once Mom and Dad got back.
He was an amazing cat. Quick to purr and always ready to but his head against mine. He was obsessed with having his chin scratched and his ears and tail pulled. I would call "Buddykins!" to where he was lounging and he wouldn't move a muscle, but suddenly I would hear his loud purr.
He liked to nap in my dad's sink and lay down on his side with his legs straight out like a dog. He played like a kitten even though he was over 10 years old when he came to us. He'd catch mice and leave them for us even though he doesn't have any front claws. We'd have meowing conversations until someone else in the house told me to be quiet and leave him alone. He loved to watch movies with us, curled up in the crook of someone's knees. When Marissa and I would build blanket forts, he'd absolutely love it and never leave. He unashamedly begged for meat and cheese whenever someone started making food in the kitchen.
I'm going to miss him. His ordinary gray fur and his knotted tail. I'm going to miss scooping him up and talking to him in an embarrassingly gooey voice and smothering his face with kisses. I miss his deep voice and endless meowing. He was my first real pet, my kissy-face, my buddykins, my Tonkers, my lover-boy. I love you Tonx and thank you for showing up one night at our front door and changing our lives.
