a tribute to LittleShit aka Squeaky




he was a stray, he picked me. he came to my door during a big storm. separated from his mother as he was quite small. a bit wild, that i tamed. we got along well. he learned by my reactions to ease up on the claws at times with positive reinforcement. didn't have to show him twice, he learned, and he remembered. never really liked being held even when small, he would stand in my lap for a short period (where he learned the claw thing). he would be in the front yard every evening when i got home. he always came when called, probably because he knew i had food. but he was good hunter too because he brought me all forms of prey on my/his front porch. it is what cats do.

He was a good Cat.

he hasn't come home in more than a month. not sure what happened but, i can think of 2 things that might have happened:
1. he found a better home - which is actually hard to believe.
2. he was killed in some way. - a fate of many cats i and my family have had over the years.


either way - I will miss him.