I don’t think words can capture the sense memory of feeling of your beautiful fawn coat, petting you while you were snoring away, the little paw- and nose twitches while you were probably dreaming of catching pigeons. I wish you could have had ham and pork belly every day of your life, instead of having to scavenge them when you saw a second of opportunity. In your last days, you managed to repossess your vet’s lunch (home-made roasted chicken), because nobody could ever say no to that face. We spent your last hours recounting stories about you, mostly food-related crimes (sandwich-gate, rat-gate, and so many more), but all filled with amazement at your persistence, unwillingness to ever lose sight of your goals or give up, and the deep love we all have for you, which you always returned in spades. Rest easy now. I wish I could see you walk so so jauntily, tail swishing wildly, ears alert to every sound, one last time.
