Bobby first came to our family as a stray. He would visit our house almost daily, so eventually we started leaving him food, and even made a little place for him to stay in our garage. We decided to name him Bob because he looked just like a miniature bobcat. Then one day he bit my mom, yet not out of malice (probably because he was scared). We took him to the vet, where they said we could either keep him or they would have be put down. Thankfully, my mom chose to keep him.



We also had another cat named Petey, and the two of them got along pretty well. They would fight together, and then play. Petey would make Bob be his biff. I knew they really loved each other. We also got a dog, Hershey, a couple years later. Bobby took a little bit to get warmed up to her, but they ended up being friends too. After Hershey died, we got another dog named Molly. She was just a puppy, but Bobby was scared of her. It took a couple weeks for him to get used to her, and they became friends as well.



Bobby was always such a sweet cat. He was a little shy around strangers, and got frightened whenever many people came over...he'd usually run under my bed to hide from them. But once he got to know someone, he's come right up to their face purring for attention. That's all he really wanted, to be loved...oh and of course food. Bobby was a great cat, but VERY fat. Our nickname for him was "the blob"



I loved Bobby so much. I loved how he would always follow me downstairs, or try to run in my room with me before I shut the door. I loved his loud purr and how he'd always try to snuggle with me whenever I was sitting down somewhere. I loved how he would sit in the most silly places, like my laptop case or my packed suitcase which I was about to close. I loved the way he always nuzzled up to me with his face. I loved how vicious he got around food, clawing at someone's hand with food or eating right off the plates. I loved how he enjoyed so many random treats, especially goldfish and crackers...then would drink out of the toilet just like a dog and drool constantly.



Bobby annoyed sometimes, but just like any other person or pet that I've loved. Surprising, I will even miss his constant meowing, and how he'd run right in front of where I was walking to trip me. He was still the sweetest cat.



A few years before Bobby died, we could tell he was starting to slow down. He was even diagnosed with diabetes. The vet said he'd need shots everyday, or at least a special diet. The next few years he slowed down even more, and there were several times when we were sure he was about to leave us. But he'd always get better and eventually we took him off his special diet. He actually seemed to get better! For an old cat, at least 16+ years, he was doing really well. He could still see hear, smell, and run and jump around. Bobby did lose a lot of weight though, even with as much as he was eating.



Everyone was surprised how long Bobby held on for. He never seemed to be in pain, but was very lazy. And he always seemed very happy, like nothing was wrong with him. I tried to make him happy...I'd always pet him, kiss him, cuddle with him, and talk to him. I just hope I really did make him happy because he was such a good cat. I looked at him more as a friend than just a pet. He was the only one I could always come to, tell him exactly what was on my mind without him getting mad or judging me.



The sad day came when it was finally Bobby's time. He had gone outside as usual, but ended up wandering up a few houses where a neighbor took him in. My mom did not know this, and figured Bobby had gone off in the woods to die peacefully. Thankfully my best friend Melaney stopped by my house for me (I was away at college at the time) to look for Bobby. She found out the neighbor had taken him in, then brought him to the animal shelter since he didn't know whose cat he was. Sadly, the animal shelter saw how old and sick-looking he was and decided to euthenize him. That was understandable, because Bobby certainly looked old and skinny (I wouldn't say "sickly" though). I just hope Bobby wasn't too scared all by himself there, and I really wish I could have been there with him to comfort him.



The day I found out Bobby died was when I already started to miss him. Even though I don't believe in God, it's tough knowing that he's really gone forever and not somewhere looking down on us. That's a nice thought, but I just can't bring myself to believe myths like that. 



Still, I know I can't complain because Bobby had a long, happy life. He was a such a good boy, such a lovable cat. I love all my pets and will love any I get in the future, but I don't think I'll love any other as much as I loved Bobby. Everyday I think about him, and I'll never stop missing him. 



R.I.P. Bobby (aka Bob, Blob, Robert, Blobert)