In the back garden, behind the evergreens, past the vinca, I found a peaceful spot near the cedar fence. I shoveled out dirt and cut through roots and dug down as far as I could reach. It’s there I buried Storm.
His name is actually Thunder Lightning Rainstorm, named 16 years ago by two very young kids who grew up with this fine member of our family.
Storm was a lap cat. Sometimes you could hardly get seated and he’d be jumping up on you. He was also a bit of an anxious fellow, and at times we called him Nervous Nellie. In his younger days, he was a relentless hunter. And he liked to nork his brother, Pumpkin, three years his junior.
We loved him, and he loved us, but Storm got old and ill, and then it was time.
I cried a little and I will miss him. He was a beautiful, loving cat.