Don't worry, he's not dead. 

Let me tell you the brief story of Washington the Cat.  I met Washington I wanna say in the mid 00's, when I was still living in Warrensburg.  My roommate Jim found him on the back deck of our house, and decided to take him in.  It was winter and it was snowy and cold outside, so it seemed like the nice thing to do.

Washington lived in Columbia with Jim for about ten years. Then some circumstances happened, and Jim couldn't keep him around anymore.  He was going to have to take him to the shelter, but we intervened and said we'd foster him until Jim got back on his feet.  A couple of years go by, and well, he's still there.  Then one day  Jim texted me a picture of a dog he adopted.  He said he wanted something to take care of.  I said, "What about Washington?"  Jim felt like he was taken care of well by us, and that he seemed to be okay, so why disturb him? I guess I see the logic in that, but... we only agreed to take Wash on a temporary basis.  Three cats in the house is just one too many for us. 

But we weren't gonna kick him out or anything.  It wasn't his fault he was living with us. It just happened.  So for a long time, we've just all kind of.... chilled together.  Washington likes Husbando and I, but... he does not like Kitten or Figgy.  And really, they don't like him  much either.  Sometimes Figgy and Wash will play fight or chase each other, which is normal, but.... sometimes it gets a little worrisome.   Most of the time Washington just avoids the other two.  He hides sometimes.

I felt bad for the guy, I mean, he's getting up there in age, and the other two are probably half his age. I can't imagine he likes it.  When he's sitting on the couch with me, the other two can't sit there.  They have to sit somewhere else or on the back of the couch.  They won't sit with him.  They'll sit with each other, but not with him.  I guess they just aren't meant to be.  Or maybe it's because the girls have been together since Kitten was maybe one year old and Figgy was a scrawny baby.  They have history that they don't have with Washington. Or maybe it's just a "boys have cooties" thing. Who knows. I don't speak cat.

So when my Sister called me the other day and asked me if she could have one of our cats, I said yes without hesitation.  It's good for him, us, and my Sister's family.  Washington won't have to hide anymore, he will have more space, my cats won't be mad at him all the time, and they get a cuddle buddy that will occasionally head butt you. I mean, yeah, I'll miss him.  But I really think this is better for our Cranky Old Man.  He doesn't need to spend his silver years constantly fighting with cats half his age.

So up to the city he went, secure in his new carrier to go to his new family who will undoubtedly spoil him rotten.  Bye, Washington.  We'll see you when we come up to visit next time. You were a good boy, just... in the wrong house.

Cattingly yours,

Behka