From the day he was born, my sons knew he was special.  He was the last born of six.  After delivery, his mother got very ill, and brought him from the closet and laid him at my feet.  He was so tiny and helpless, and I knew she was trusting him to me.  



My sons and I bottle fed Rocky for a few weeks. During that time my son Kyle noticed that when he tried holding his bottle, he actually looked like he was boxing, so we named him Rocky.  Rocky grew up to be a beautiful orange tabby who loved his family.  It was evident because when we would get home from work and school, he would run to greet us. When you talked to him, he would talk right back. I think he actually understood us. He grew up with my sons and fit right in.



Rocky loved to curl up in our arms, just like a baby, and he would sleep all night right next to one of us.  



Rocky never enjoyed riding in cars, but when I moved from MO to FL, he endured it as best he could.  Once we got into our own place, with our own furniture, he felt more at home.  His favorite past time was to sit on the balcony enjoying the fresh air and watching the birds.  



Unfortunately, this past December, Rocky suddenly took ill, and the doctor's said that he was in a great deal of pain.  It took me two days to make a decision because he was like a child to me.  I knew I had to do what was best for him, even though it pained my heart inconsolably.  I miss him every single day, but he will always be a part of me.  My little Rocko, I miss you my friend.