Yesterday, Mr. Tang left our lives in a flash, and now there is a hole where once a fluffy, great kitty once lived.
He was hit by a car in our neighborhood at around 9AM, but my roommate John was lucky to find and bring him home. Reid and I managed to leave our jobs, come home and say tearful goodbyes to our fine feline friend.
A few friends came by (an old roommate, one of my best friends who catsat numerous times), and we gave Mr. Tang a proper burial in the backyard, a place he really loved.
I’ve never really had a pet of my own before Kyuubi and Mr. Tang; hell, I wasn’t even a cat person until we got ours, but I know that Mr. Tang was one of the most unique and special cats ever. He was the fluffiest, cuddliest, chillest, and friendliest. He would always take naps with whoever was on the couch. He couldn’t meow (he honked). He wasn’t the most graceful, or smart, but god damn did he know how to headbutt. He really liked string cheese. He once had an epic battle with a chipmunk for 45 minutes and lost.
And now he’s gone.
I keep expecting him to show up on the back porch, or in the kitchen window, or on my pillow and he’s not there. He won’t ever be there, and man, does it suck.
Mr. Tang: I loved you so much. Thanks for being the best cat ever.
(Mr. Tang Smith-Armada, 2007-2011)