Squishy, R.I.P.

Yesterday the world lost a gentle cat named Squishy. Squishy had been with my family for 16 years, greatly exceeding all expectations since my parents live near a busy street; his predecessors - Buddy and Squeak - only survived a few years between them. But, despite the moniker given by my sister, Squishy defied the odds and saw me through the end of elementary school, through high school, university, and beyond.

Squishy wasn't an extremely social cat. He didn't particularly like new people and would often just hide in the basement whenever the doorbell rang. And even after co-habitating with my father for 16 years, there was little ground gained in that relationship. But he was fiercely loyal to me and my mother. He often slept on my bed, and would sit underneath the desk lamp whenever I was on the computer. Even years after I had moved away from home, he would still greet me as though no time had passed, waiting to be pet.

Sadly, but perhaps not unexpectedly, his health declined as he grew older. His once regal, muscular physique deteriorated, despite a healthy appetite. He had survived a near-death situation a few years ago, but this time was different. It was time.

Thanks Squishy, for everything. We will always remember you.