This has been a horrible month. First Holly, now my parents' cat Jimmy.
Jimmy seemed everlasting. He married into the family when my stepmother and father tied the knot. I could always count on that enormous bundle of orange tabby sacked out on his favorite blankie on the sofa when I went home. There was a time when he got so fat he seemed to be competing with Garfield, but then the new kitten came home and bits of Jimmy just melted away, like winding a clock back to the days when he was slim, trim, and always ready for a good chase sequence.
I think Spook added years to Jimmy's life. Even though, later on, he went back to his former ways, and spent most of his time sacked out. But then he'd wake up, decide he wanted his old dad, and get down on the floor to engage in some serious cute.
And if you yelled "Shrimpers, Jimmy!" from the kitchen, you could bet you'd have one attentive cat there in a split-second. He loved his shrimpers.
Goodbye, dear old Jimmy Durante. Thanks for those 18 awesome years, buddy.
We'll miss ya, Jimmers.