Garfield was my cat since I was five. He lived to be 20 years old. He lived in Florida, California, and Colorado with me. Garfield looked just like the cartoon cat Garfield. He was my friend when I had none. I talked to him whenever no one else would listen. He never betrayed me. He was always there. When I went through my major depression a few years ago, Garfield was the only living soul that I felt that I could talk to, open up to, and was my only friend at the time. Garfield was one of the few who really saw how depressed I was. I remember how happy I was whenever he nudged me on my forehead...his little kiss to me.