I lost my best friend of fourteen and one-half years today. Harley, beloved yellow striped cat. Diabetes and a failing liver; he fought a valiant fight.
Loving always, and brave to the end.
He was in my lap at the vets, with Iris who loved him, alongside. Gently, he slept, and sleeps now forevermore.
No better friend. No finer shipmate. Never a love more loyal or true.
Beloved Yellow Cat
Made of Pure Love
March 15, 1995 - November 9, 2009.
First, let me thank each of you who've commented for your kind and caring comments. And yes, the same in advance for any who comment later.
Now then. I think it only fitting to put up a few photos of His Royal Yellowness. And even these images fail to do justice to the pure, unadulterated love which he exuded like other cats shed hair. You can read some about him and his late sister Ariel, here. An excerpt for you:
They're both loyal, but Harley defies the definition of "cat" in this respect. Think in terms of a three year old child with seperation anxiety. One of his nicknames is "velcro cat". If that mushball had his way, he'd live eighteen hours a day on my lap, or riding on my shoulders.
When I come home from work, he's always at the companionway to greet me, and when I come below into the cabin, I really can't function until he's had his ten or fifteen minutes of licking my face, wagging his tail, making odd "bmruffmrrrow: noises and just generally letting me know he's happy that I'm home. I describe him to people as a mix of Garfield, Marmaduke, Dennis the Menace and Ferdinand the Bull. When he's happy (which is 95% of the time) he "thuds" his tail on the cushion, just like a happy dog.
Now, please let me share some of his love, with each of you.
Thirteen pounds of absolute, unconditional love, in a striped yellow specklebelly coat.
He rests now, today, protected by strong wood, brass fittings and my abiding love, deep beneath the grass outside of my gunroom window, where we will still keep company, always.
Rest in Peace my beloved friend. Rest in peace.