Goodbye, Old Friend

His name was Lucky and he was the best darn Cat this girl has ever known.
He was fat, lazy, loud, annoying, he hogged the bed, he get his white hair everywhere, and he was always begging for food. And he was wonderful.
I last time I saw Lucky was Wednesday, August 19, 2009. Dad had let him out for the night, because he was so anxious. He never came back. Which is, in of itself, strange, because he rarely strayed far from home, and when he did, all I had to do was call, and he'd come running (at his own pace).
I got Lucky for Christmas was I was three years old. I popping off the tape from the wrapped box he was in and he popped right out. I don't recall this, but all my sisters and parents say that when he came out I said, "Lucky!" like he was an old friend. We were deciding what to name him, and I wanted to name him Spot (I was only three, ok?), but Caitlyn convinced me to name him Lucky. From that day on, I think he was jinxed.
He had had cuts, gashes, and scrapes from fighting other cats and other undefinable sources. He had had three abscesses on his head; two on top, one on his cheek. The second one killed a few pigments in his skin, and he had a tiny white spot ever after on his head where it had originally been solid orange. He'd had re-occurring ear mites which we were never able to officially cure. He had this great ponch on his belly, like a middle-aged man with a beer belly, and it was wiggle and swing side-to-side whenever he tried to run. That and his neck were the only places he's store all his immense fat. The rest of him was scrawny. In fact, his belly was so large, he couldn't walk like regular cats; he sort of waddled.
In his youth, his tail was a little too long for him. It would dangle over his back like a carrot dangling in front of a mule. We thought one day it would get so long, it would obstruct his vision. It never did, but he eventually grew into it.
The way to his heart was definitely through his belly. Not only would he eat himself to death if we let him, his spots took the form of hearts all over his body--especially when he curled up in his way, with his back legs straight against his head.
Near the end, he developed Epilepsy, which I hear happens to some cats once they get old (Lucky lived for 12 years). He would have seizures and strokes if we didn't get his medicine. For the first month or so we had no idea what was wrong with him. I thought he was dying. Just one day, I go upstairs, and his was twitching and foaming at the mouth, he started circling and hissing... Then I saw his first grand mall seizure: I thought he was dying then, too. He didn't die. We took him to a vet and he got medicine. He was never the same after he got sick: he didn't yowl at the door to go in and out very two seconds any more (nothing missed) but nor did he sleep on my bed and head butt me in the middle of the night when he wanted petted or stare out the window at night, listening to all the night noises of the pond. He didn't purr as often, nor play/fight with Pounce (other cat) any more. But he would still wink at me with those big green eyes and stretch out and put his paws on the counter when he wanted fed.
I still can't believe he's gone. He was here, looking at me, purring, wanting fed and petted, following me around while I did my outside chores, just a few days ago. And now I have only one cat to feed and she doesn't even have to worry about her food being ravaged by him. I keep seeing little movement in the corner of my eye and expecting him to be there, wanting fed or petted, or just trying to get around on his daily rounds about the house. There's no one to knead the stuffed tigers in my room (which he did every time he walked him there, even after his illness) anymore.
Yesterday, Mom took me to the a cat adoption place. i met a kitten by the name of Spirit. She wouldn't leave me alone, and crawled all over me and Mom the entire time. And there was the male cat at the pound named Squirrel who jumped and climbed like his namesake. And had an inquisitive face to boot. I'll admit, I'm falling in love with both. I'll have to choose only one, I know.
Whichever I choose it would not be a replacement. Nothing, No one, could ever replace that Cat in my heart. I miss him, I mourn him, and I will never forget him. Never. The first and most developing years of my life will shine golden because of his friendship. he was a Godsend. I really think so. There is no way I could have made it through Elementary, Middle, Or Junior High school without him. Whichever cat I decide to adopt, it will be a new love, and new friendship.
I know Lucky couldn't live forever. I knew he would die. I knew it would be hard and it is. But I must move on, remembering him before and after he was sick, the sweet, stupid, loving cat. I know I will see him again.