He Likes the Spankin's

Mix it into conversation; it makes every chat more lively, trust me.

I found out tonight that a friend's beloved cat passed away this weekend. I'm so sorry he's gone; he was truly a friend and my heart is heavy tonight at his loss. He was a fine animal, a good friend, and a loving member of the family. My thoughts are with his family in their loss.

Fat Boy was always up for a petting, or more specifically a spanking. He would fall off the couch in an effort to get closer for some more lovin's. And then look up at you and expect love on the floor now. Over here, and scratch behind the ear, and then some more spankin's.

He was such a sweet cat, except to his sister, Midget, who he regularly chased, bit and sat upon with his large bulk. And later, sometimes moments later, you would find them curled up together licking each other and sleeping in a big furry white, black, and grey pile. Because that's what brothers and sisters are for, torture with a grooming chaser followed by a nap.

I can remember when he first came home, after flying half way across the country to live in his new home. At first that consisted of one room, mostly under the bed in that room, for upwards of two or three weeks. He was a small ghost of a cat, moving so fast you could hardly see him. The Boy and the kitten-who-would-be-Fat-Boy met each other and grew to love one another. Fat Boy would often be found sleeping with The Boy, if he wasn't laying on his mom's legs so she couldn't move in the middle of the night.

The last time I spent time at my friend's house, I watched some Food Channel while Fat Boy curled up next to me and purred. I gave him some spankin's but only when Mom came home did he get the really good lovin's. He was so happy to get his lovin's, you could almost see him smile.

Good-bye, sweet Fate, you are already much missed.