Oh, Yosh. I’ll never forget the first time I saw you—it’s like a Polaroid picture in my mind. It was at our house on 63rd Street. You and Cassie were nose-to-nose in the roses next to the driveway. She was busy posturing to let you know she wasn’t down with you hanging around her house and you had that look on your face that would come to be a symbol of your personality--everybody’s friend, a lover, oblivious to the aggressions of others. I even remember the words I said when I discovered you: “What a funny looking little face”.
You had the prettiest blue eyes. You were scrawny, just a kitten, a stray. Your fur was thin and rangy. With two dogs and a cat, we had our hands full, but we took you in and fed you. I even gave you a bath which you didn’t like. We tried to find a home for you but soon found you were meant to be ours. With proper nutrition and love you grew to be a stunning cat. Everyone remarked on how pretty and sweet you were. At one of your pet visits we discovered that you were a Ragdoll.Through the years you had your share of accidents—first a car tried to get you, then a wild animal, then you suffered from crystals in your urine that almost killed you. A few years later, you got a cataract in your eye. The doc said it was probably from your first car tangle. About a year ago, you had your eye removed. You were still our beautiful Yoshi, though, with your black mask and white chin, socked feet and white-tipped tale and we loved you. Sure you could be a pest. You loved your peeps and always wanted a lap to sit on. Let’s face it you had a lot of competition with two little boys running around. Then last night a car finally got you. I found you this morning on the neighbor’s yard. I could see something laying in the grass, but that white-tipped tale was like a bulls-eye and my heart sank as I knew it was you and I knew you were dead. At first I couldn’t believe it but I now know it is true.
To say that I am devastated by your loss is an understatement. I’ll miss you so much. I’ll miss your fur all over the clean piles of laundry. I’ll miss catching you sleeping in the sink. I’ll miss seeing most of your 16 pounds spilling over the back of the couch as you take a nap. I’ll miss seeing you run up to me in the driveway when I get home from work, seeing you laying in the chair on the front porch and I’ll miss scratching that white-dotted chin. I’ll miss a hundred other things that I don’t even know right now. I won’t know until I catch myself thinking you are there and realizing you are gone.
I’m am sorry that we couldn’t protect you this time, that we couldn’t intervene as we had all those times before and rescue you from yourself. It breaks my heart thinking, wondering what you went through. I’m sorry. Matt and I both gave you some love this morning before you left our house. We will always love you.
We decided long ago that we wouldn’t have anymore cats after you and I don’t think we will. You were the best cat ever. I don’t want another cat, I just want my Yoshi.