Here’s to Obi Wan, a good cat who wandered into our lives about the same time Episode I graced the theaters, thus the name. He was itsy bitsy and showed no fear. And then he grew and grew. We called him Ben for short. I always figured we’d get around to calling him Old Ben. Turns out we ran out of time.
He was big and not all that bright, often clumsy, always good natured. He slept in the middle of the floor on his back with his legs splayed out in all directions. His white parts were downy soft. He liked to be scratched under the collar and behind the ears. He would nip you in a disciplinary way for scratching him insufficiently. He was rarely a lap cat but was insistent on bedtime scratches. He liked to be brushed. His fur always smelled like garden soil. He had cat friends – usually younger cats from the neighborhood – that he enjoyed spending time with. They would wrestle and play and sometimes he invited them right into the house. Here’s my cat tree. Make yourself at home and please help yourself to anything at all in the kitchen. He snored. He liked toy mice, which was as close to successfully hunting as he ever got. He liked to chew on my hair when it was wet. Big feet, big heart, big tummy. He was 18 lbs and meowed like a baby kitten girl.
You were a good woobie, Ben, and you are missed. There’s an 18 pound hole in my heart.
Last night we gathered photos and sat together as a family as watched a slideshow of our Ben. Shawn and I had a good cry together, while Luke read a book about space ships between us and Meeko purred on the back of the couch. Life.