Butterfly was one of my best friends.  He had more personality than a lot of people I know.  With his bo-legged trot and his inability to jump like normal cats, he was unique.  He loved everyone except maybe for Naomi, but deep down inside I know he loved to hate her.  He was a free spirit not to be locked in the confines of an apartment.  He loved to go outside, and then come back in, and then go back outside about 2 minutes later.  He was either indecisive or just loved screwing with our heads.  Either way he is missed.  He came when he was called just like a dog and scratched on the door just like a dog.  Now, if he had barked like a dog, I would have really been worried.  He was always there when I got home and always there when I woke up.  He hated not being able to sleep with me, but I think he understood.  He loved his treats and loved to bask in the sun under the window.  He hated the car, but loved to go over to my dad's house to visit his friends.  The things he loved definitely outweighed the things he didn't.  He loved his scarf.  God how he loved that scarf



I wasn't really sure how I could express what Butterfly meant to me.  At first, I wanted to say that when he died, a piece of me died as well.  That came from anger.  Upon further reflection I realized I should not focus on his death and what was taken from me, but focus on his life.  For my birthday my mom sent me a card with a quote from the poet William Blake on the front.  It read, "Life delights in life".  At first I didn't understand what it meant, but now it makes perfect sence.  We must remember the life Butterfly led and the joy he brought to us all.  We must not linger in our sadness, but rejoice in the happiness he spread.  Weather you remember laughing with him or laughting at him, he made you smile, and that is what we should delight in.  We'll miss you Butters!