My mother got several cats as I grew up. But one of the first (and one of my favorites) was a white cat with spots that I named Patches. I got patches when I was four years old. He was our biggest strong cat, yet he was the most affectionate one. He always wanted to rub people and have them pet him. But during the past few years, he wandered off from home. We learned he had been able to find someone else to feed him during his time away. He came back once or twice, but wandered off again.
Today my mother contacted me with some bad news. Patches came back with a swollen face. The vet thought it was a tumor in his sinuses. They had him put to sleep. I'll miss you, Patches.
It's not my intention to fish for sympathy. I just think it would be best if I could share the events in my life with you all. I don't want to drift apart from my friends.