Just before 9 AM yesterday – Monday November 18, 2019 – I had to say goodbye to my sweet old kitty, Stitch.

I can’t really describe how it feels to have to write what is essentially another pet eulogy in 2019, despite the fact that he was with me for 17 years, 5 months, and [about?] 4 days.

I suppose I could start by saying that at least this time, I was much more prepared for this loss than I was with Wendy. Stitch has been sickly more often than not for several years now, to the point where I long ago lost count of the number of times I took him to the vet thinking, “This time, it might really be time”.

But somehow he just kept hanging on.

I know it might be silly, but part of me can’t help but wonder if he stuck around so darn long because he was just set on staying by my side. Because while Wendy might have been the pet who showed me what it was to love again, Stitch was the one who took care of me – from on or around (hey, it’s been a long ass time) June 14, 2003, until yesterday morning.

After all, this is the cat who could sense that I was about to cry before I even knew I was going to do so.

I actually adopted Stitch and his sister Lilo at the same time, but he outlived her by five and a half years. They were, of course, named for the Disney movie, and I was always surprised at how perfectly the two of them embodied the characters they were named after: Lilo being a pudgy, adorable, attention- and affection-seeking little girl, and Stitch being, well, a loyal, brave little hellion.

Lilo and Stitch saw me through college, where they both whined about being apartment cats and often curled up on the small of my back when I would lay on my bed studying. They moved from Farmville, Virginia, to Lynchburg, Virginia, to Ellington, Connecticut…then on to Orlando, back to Lynchburg, eventually Greenville, and then to Connecticut again (though Enfield, this time). We returned to Greenville eventually, which is where Lilo was laid to rest, but Stitch continued on with me, ending up in Lake Mary, Florida, then Altamonte Springs, Florida, for a couple years before finally returning to our true home in Greenville in the summer of 2018.

Throughout those many many years – more than half of my life, in fact – Stitch was my stalwart companion. He was the sweetest boy, always friendly with people and other cats and dogs. He was king of the house – he was definitely head of my cat pack, and he would literally break up…let’s say ‘arguments’ between the other cats. As for the dogs, while he and Wendy got into it over food from time to time, for the most part she – and any other pups – knew better than to mess with him. One withering stare and any dog thinking about bothering him would back down, generally…and often soon after that he would be curling up right next to said dog.

He was warm and cozy and soft and handsome, and very, very smart.

But he was also the type of cat that would trip you up in the kitchen (yes, I’m fairly certain it was at least partially on purpose), and also constantly try to get into your food. Some of my funniest Stitch stories involve just that…like the time he jumped up onto the stove, pulled the tinfoil off a pan that had a ham in it (and trust me, the tinfoil had been FITTED around the sides), tore a whole hock off said ham, dropped onto the kitchen floor with this huge chunk of ham, and proceeded to fight Wendy for it.

Then there was the time we were having a Lord of the Rings marathon and I made a taters-and-onions casserole. After we ate, I covered it in foil and left it in the oven, but I cracked the door so that it could cool down. SOMEHOW, Stitch squirmed his way through the barely-open oven door, clawed the foil off the casserole dish, and we found him INSIDE THE STILL VERY WARM OVEN, spooning onions and taters into his mouth with his paw.

He also loved chips and similar snacks. He would literally crawl into a bag of any of the above, but the funniest was his obsession with Cheetos, which he would literally try to smack out of your hand.

Oh, and he EXPECTED you to give him the leftover milk from your cereal bowl. Sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) he wouldn’t even wait until you were done to try to get into it.

So yeah, he had his quirks, and many of them weren’t the endearing kind. But I wouldn’t trade any of those for all of the good things about him, and there were a lot. It wasn’t just me who he knew to comfort; any friend who came to my house who was sad would end up with a Sticky Bear on their chest. Also, even people who were allergic to cats were somehow not allergic to him.

Speaking of people, Stitch was with me so long that he has met a higher percentage of my friends than any other pet I’ve ever had. College friends, Disney friends, Virginia friends, Greenville friends, hometown friends, Orlando friends, convention friends. Shoot, he literally met people from around the world – mainly Europe, but two from Australia, as well 😉

For those who met him…well, I know that at times his extreme drive for food was frustrating, but he was also still the friendliest cat, always up for a head scratch or a gentle cuddle, and I know so many of my friends loved him, too.

I’m glad that his last day was spent almost entirely in mine or Steve’s lap, and that his last night was spent sleeping right next to my shoulder on the bed. I understand that it was time for him to go, but there will never be another cat quite like him, and I’m going to go on missing him terribly for a very long time.