Mamas, my heart is so sad today. I found out last night that my cat Louis was killed by a coyote a few nights ago. For the last month I've had a strange feeling that he wasn't going to be around much longer, for no explicable reason, just thought it was pregnancy weirdness making me feel strange.
I was living in Houston when Lou came along. I had one cat, and had just adopted a rescue Jack Russell the very day that a ragged ol' orange tomcat showed up at my front door. He was rail thin, eyes were scrathed up and and he was covered in mites and fleas, and had a nasty case of worms. I was flying to California the next day and didn't know what to do with him. I thought he might die if he didn't get some medical treatment so I took him to my much loved vet. After a check up the doc said he was in rough shape, and might've lived another week or so if he hadn't been found. Then he handed me Louis's three page long diagnosis and a bill for $800. Told the doc I couldn't shell out that kind of money and that Louis wasn't even mine. The vet agreed to treat him and house him until I got back from California in a week and we'd try to get him adopted out. I also agreed to pay the entire $800 if he'd do installments. So I went to Cali, but kept thinking about the cat the whole time. I stopped at the vet on the way home from the airport to check on him, where the vet's staff had named him Tang. He was still being treated and wasn't ready for release, but in my absence, three people in the vets office had volunteered to adopt him. I told the vet he'd be coming home with me as soon as he was ready for release. When it was time for him to come home, the doc handed me an amended bill... I thought it would be around $1000 with the meds costs and boarding costs, (20ish per day)but it was for $140. The vet had fallen in love with him too and was willing to eat most of the cost if he knew Lou would be going home with someone who loved him too. I cried like a baby in the vet's office. Louis outlasted 4 or 5 boyfriends, lived in Houston, Maine and Dallas, outlived 3 dogs. He was confident, loved life as a cat, talked incessantly, snored like a lumberjack, herded all my dogs around and purred louder than the best. He also had an eating disorder from all the years spent eating out of garbage cans. He loved ketchup and could eat half a cantaloup by himself. He was a great snake catcher (sometimes leaving little presents in my bed under the sheets). He was the absolute best bed mate I've ever had and I'd just about rather sleep with him than any man I ever knew.

Lou lived with my mom and stepdad these last few years. He made friends with all the neighbors, eating at every house on the block, getting fatter and fatter, but still just gorgeous and majestic. My mom came in last night to tell me and she sobbed for over an hour. My stepdad locked himself in the garage and couldn't speak to anyone. The neighbor Lou loved the best called 3 times, crying harder with each call. Lou had adopted her blind poodle and would guard him on walks in the neighborhood. Such a singular being. The title, btw, is Louis' versus of a cat call. I made up a silly song to him when he first came to live with me. Yeah, its goofy, but when I said it or sang it to him, he'd look at me with those big gold eyes and purr and I swear he'd smile.
Goodbye sweety. Thanks for all the good stuff all these years.