I'm not a cat person. I'm not a cat person because cats tend not to like me, or to make me sneeze, or to leave their hair on me so that I have allergies for weeks.
Puck, who passed away yesterday, did all of these things. But I loved Puck.
I loved how insistent he was about being pet, how if he wanted love you had no choice but to give it to him. If you didn't, he kept you up all night. He'd walk over the keys or right over your face if he had to. When he was through being pet, he got up and walked away. If you annoyed him he batted you.
I loved that I could rub his tummy, but if I tried to do it a certain way he'd gnaw on my fingers instead. I loved his personality, which was at turns affectionate, inquisitive and aloof. He tried to eat my titanium computer. He tried to drink from the toilet.
If you were not Meg but very lucky or he was just in a good mood, he'd curl up next to you and lay there without needing more affection or attention. I liked that the best. Sometimes on Friday mornings, I would just be sleeping after Meg went to work, and I'd wake up to his triangular face staring right at me. It was never jarring. He would have already climbed right onto my chest and lain there waiting for me to wake up. I would scratch his ears and he'd turn his head so that I was scratching the best spot. Then he'd disappear under the bed and you'd never know he was there.
Meg is feeling like she didn't do enough for him. But I saw her dance with him, I saw her coo with him, I saw her hug and pet and feed and worry and play and smack around and nuzzle and love him. I saw him respond to her voice, and I saw him seek her out. I saw him happy when she came in the door and I saw him pissed that she had left. She would pet him absently with one hand and he'd stretch out blissfully under it.
My dog is nearing the end of her life, and the last few weeks have been rough; we sit expecting it, wondering if we should help it along, wishing it would just happen quickly so she didn't suffer. And during this time I've comforted myself with what I know: that my dog is loved and had a good life.
I can say the same for Puck.
I've never had a dog or a cat as a helpful friend so I can't relate to what you went through but I'm sure that Puck knows that
you've loved him ever since he set foot in your house. I'm sorry that you've lost a friend. He sounded like a pet that you
grew to love through his charisma. You gave him all the love that he wanted you to give him and I hope that the memories you
all had together will not bring sorrow but happiness.