He came into my life on a tearful April day. My grandmother died suddenly a few weeks after turning 80 and we all went to our funeral. One of my dads cousin hitched a ride with my sister and me back to Bergen. On the way she told us that she had a himalayan kitten with a jaw that wasn’t properly aligned. She was giving him away and needed someone to take him. I had been thinking about getting a cat and jumped on the opportunity.
He was charming. The jaw didn’t look right, but it didn’t seem to hold him back in any way.
A few weeks later he was ready to move in and started out slinking along the walls for a few minutes. Then he decided that the place was safe and set about establishing himself as king of the home.
He loved when visitors came, always sitting ready by the door after the doorbell rang. He was good friends with my parents old dog and not so good friends with my sisters puppy. He liked being where the action was and quite often got jealous of books or computers that sometimes got more attention than he did. The tv he didn’t mind as it was far enough away to offer lots of lap space. He preferred to get into places where he wasn’t allowed and made sure to do more wrong in front of Kristin than me, having no respect for mild voices. He loved being scratched between the nose and the eyes and hated getting combed, the latter being a bit unpractical when you are a persian. He didn’t like travelling, but liked getting to places. He lived most of his life indoors, but liked being outside when the opportunity arose. He just made sure to keep within earshot of the house so he could hear us calling. He expected a sink full of drinking water in the bathroom every night when we went to bed. He considered most flat surfaces as potential sleeping places and didn’t hesitate to poke us in the face when we tried to occupy his favorite place in the sofa for a nap.
He was wonderful company for 14,5 years.
Miss you kitty!