The late Frisky, in a photo from 2005.
Frisky cocked his head in puzzlement at the strange new cat that suddenly appeared in the Simon household.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked suspiciously. “You can’t be Nardo, because I’m not pissed off at you.”
“Why, Frisky,” replied the stranger. “I’m the Black Kitty of Inlé. Don’t you recognize me?”
“I thought you’d be scarier. Say, where we’re going, will there be treats? And a tub to piss in?”
“Absolutely. And you’ll get to see Edloe and Piper again. They’ve been asking about you. And no Nardo. Not for a long, long time.”
“Cool. What’re we waiting for?”
The above is a 100-word story that I hope will serve as a memorial to Frisky, late of the Laurence Simon family. Frisky passed away last night, crossing that invisible Rainbow Bridge that takes our Animal Companions to their Eternal Reward.
The love humans feel for their Animal Buddies is fraught with the deep knowledge that our longer lifespans virtually guarantee painful farewells. It is the Way of the World.
Loving our two cats the way we do, we can barely force ourselves to imagine that they will not always be with us. And having met Frisky - and the rest of the Simon menagerie - I can personally attest to the deep affection Lair and Gina have for their cats...all of them.
To Lair and Gina, may your memories - and the knowledge that Frisky had friends all over the world - be a comfort unto you.
August 2006...happier times.
And to Frisky, Godspeed.