Remembering the four-legged friends who have shared our lives

Today I received an e-mail from my friend, Jeff He was sharing the sad news that he recently had to have his cat, Christine, put to sleep. In the letter, he reminded me that he'd adopted her as a stray in California, and she moved with him up to Washington state. She was truly part of the family. As I was writing back, I was trying to think of what to say after, "Wow, that's rough!" As I thought some more, I remembered that Demetrius and I had actually met Christine once, when we visited Jeff in Washington.

This was the year before Son in Ohio was born. It was before Jeff got married and had two daughters. So, on the one hand, she had a long life, but on the other hand, that doesn't really make it easier, does it? In fact, it got me to thinking about how, at least for me, the more chapters of my life I've shared with a pet, the more ground we've covered together geographically or otherwise, the sharper those pangs of loss will be. Because, no matter how much I can tell myself intellectually that "it was for the best", it still feels like a gaping hole has been ripped in my life. Because I've lost one of my traveling companions.

So, today I'm thinking a lot about our cat Socrates. Now, I feel like I would be remiss not to mention my dog Peggy--in case anyone in my family is lurking, I wouldn't want them to think I was dissing the Best Dog in the World. Peggy was my companion all through my teen years, and there's a picture in our photo album of me posing with her on my wedding day. When she died it was quite a blow. But Socrates crossed state lines with us, which is why Jeff's letter reminded me of him.

He remains The Best Cat in the World to me. When Demetrius and I would sit together on the couch watching television, Socrates habitually positioned himself so that he was on both of our laps. We figured he was making a point of not playing favorites.

When our alarm clock would go off in the morning, he would run out into the hallway--knowing that we would be passing that way soon--and roll onto his back, presenting his tummy to be rubbed. And that boy enjoyed a *vigorous* tummy rubbing. Only cat we've had like that. The cats who have shared our home since then have been affectionate enough, but those other cat tummies have been strictly off limits.

We don't have any digital pictures of Socrates, or even any regular pictures of him in his signature "present tummy" pose. Nor could I find a picture of any black cat doing "the pose", so this will have to do...

Feel free to share memories of your special furry friends in the comments. And if you've got a picture you'd like me to add to this post, you can send it to me at howardempowered at gmail.com.

Update from puddle, who informs us that there is a "eulogy, short form, for Digger" here.

Also, there is an abbreviated version of this post diaried at My Left Wing, Booman Tribune, Daily Kos, and Democratic Underground. Some sweet stories and pictures can be found in the comments.

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