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My sweet boy Goof died earlier this week. He'd been sick for several weeks, going up and down. Over the weekend he went downhill and died during the day on Monday.
Goof came to live with me 10 years ago this past August. His owners, a long-time couple, split up, moved out of their house, and left behind all of their cats, about a dozen. A mutual friend caught some of them and took all but two to a shelter. She took the two to her house but one, Goof, couldn't adjust to living with 2 dogs and a toddler. I was between pets so he came to live with me. When he first came, he was a wreck; too many changes in too short a time. He literally wouldn't eat if I wasn't home. Moreover, it wasn't enough that I be home; I had to stand right next to him. If I moved away, even a few feet, he'd stop eating and come herd me back to his food dish. After a couple of years, he gradually started eating without me so close until he could eat no matter where I was or whether I was home. He also, at first, was my second shadow; I couldn't move a step without him being rightthere. As with eating, that faded with time as he felt secure.
Goof loved bread, he was a carbaholic.I learned to put away my loaf of bread as soon as I got home from shopping or he'd claw open the bag and start eating. He even would break into bags of pretzels and chips if I left them where he could reach them.
I live in an apartment style condo that has no direct access to the outside. Goof would sit in the windows, until his arthritis got too bad, and look out. The first time he escaped the condo, he got a few steps outside the door and found himself in the building hallway. He looked so confused. I could practically see him thinking, "Wait, where are the trees? The cars? I see them when I look out the window, where are they?" He stopped right outside my door so all I had to do was pick him up and carry him back inside.
Goof was my canary cat, my early warning system for when I was getting sick. Whether it was a cold, stomach bug, pneumonia, or impending asthma flare up, he always knew when I was getting sick. He'd stick to me like glue and wouldn't leave me until I started feeling better. I used to joke that I was going to call work and say I couldn't come in because my cat said I was getting sick. They didn't appreciate that. :D
Goof was a sweet boy, very affectionate, who gave me lots of love over the years. I hope he knew how loved he was.