Up Up Up To The Heavyside Lair

If you are familiar with the line I used in the title of this post, you'll know it's from the musical Cats. The Heavyside Lair was T.S. Eliot's cat heaven, so to speak, and today my Buddah, aka: Poopy, Little Shit, Booder and countless other nicknames took his journey up up up to the Heavyside Lair.

He was the kitty that loved everyone. He didn't have a mean bone in his body. I think he even loved his fleas.

Life is going to be quite different without him sitting on the table, trying to stick his little face in our soup or cereal bowls. (Though in the last few weeks he has been confined to a cardboard box on the kitchen floor, instead of his beloved kitchen table and chairs) Age caught up with him in a nasty way this year.

I'm thankful that god gave him a few extra weeks with us. He had a gimpy leg that kept him from getting around well in the last months and we thought we were going to lose him in Sept when I was away in Atlantic City.

Buddah was the sweetest cat. I wish I had known him longer than the 12 years that he lived with us. He was a stray that crept into our lives on my birthday. He loved my father and until he became too gimpy to walk around much, he could always be found on my dad's lap.

When he wanted his head petted, he'd put it in your hand. Another odd trait of my Buddah was his ostrich tendencies. He liked to bury his head in your stomach or arm.



This was a recent pic, right after he recovered from his gimpy leg a few weeks ago.



This picture was from Christmas 3 years ago, with my first digital camera. The top of the microwave was another one of his favorite resting spots in the house.

We buried him near the garden in our yard. I'm going to have to find something pretty to mark his life, which was a full happy one, filled with other kitty and human friends and good food and loads of love. He was an angel of cats and I'm going to miss him terribly.

Goodbye my darling Buddah. You'll always have a place in my heart.