One day about nine years ago, after Fabrice and I had lost a kitten to FIP, we were told about two kittens who had been abandoned on a corner down in Denver. Someone picked them up and took them to a nearby shop, and a (now former) Rockies member saw them and posted on the Well that they needed a home.
They came to live with us. Blue had white fur with black spots and Jamey, named in honor of a friend, turned out to have very long Maine-coon-type fur, which he was unfortunately allergic to so we learned to have him trimmed every spring.
In spite of that, he was strong and healthy for the most part, and as loving and gentle a cat as I’ve ever known. This morning I walked upstairs and found him lying dead in the living room. The vet believes he had a stroke*.
He’d been fine when I saw him an hour before, so this was an utter shock. Fabrice and I are in deep mourning. His sister Blue and his adversary, our other cat Katy, live on.
Goodbye, Jamey, our beautiful boy. We will miss you and think of you with love always.
* See comments for more from the vet.