RIP Napoleon

I took this cat in as a favor to a friend.  I didn’t want him, didn’t like him, but took him in because he didn’t have any other place else to go.

He was a mean cat, prone to fits of rage and destruction for no apparent reason.  He wasn’t one for petting, didn’t play much, and he’d bite at you while purring.

Over the years, I came to love him for the kind of cat he was though, and while it was difficult to make the call, I knew what I had to do when the time came.

Now that he’s gone I miss him.  I miss the things about him that made him unique and unusual.

I miss the things I once hated about him.