Hobbes -- 1989-2007

My oldest friend is gone.

I know many people don't get very attached to animals. I am not one of them. The loss is far more difficult to deal with than I imagined it would be.

He was one of those wonderful characters whose personality was apparent even to people who didn't much like cats. He had the gift of sensing my moods: staying close when I was unhappy, ready to play when I was happy.

He was a good judge of character, too. He'd hang out with good people and ignore those who weren't.

He was always there for me, always alert when I came in the front door.

He shared four residences with me, met several women I have been involved with -- the only one he really liked was R.B., who was the best of them; when she was staying with us, he'd follow her around like a puppy.

Despite past health problems, he was in good shape until the last few days. It seemed he was simply tired, and the end, mercifully, came quickly.

I've had an on-and-off relationship with the concept of a God, and have never believed in an afterlife. Nonetheless, if there is any justice in the universe, the animals we love, who asked nothing more than food and affection, never caused pain and gave their own kind of love and loyalty to us, deserve to end up in a place where they can meet their departed friends and play in green meadows forever.

I cannot describe how devastating this is. I feel truly alone now, and it's the worst feeling there is.