Problem with memories is I never know what lane I will end up on. Keg party or pity party. Never know going in. Cheers or tears, memories keep me connected to the here and now by reminding me of where I came from and who I ran into along the way.
And Bob sits in the forefront today. Remembering his yowl he called a meow made my smile turn on the tears for a second or so. Our often indifferent co-existence broken when he needed us. He knew where home was and he checked in often. But much of his life he spent out in the pucker eating what he killed.
His head butts were not gentle. His idea of petting was more of a beat down. No, Bob was no Nancy Cat. And he sure let me know when he had had enough.
Bob was a bad ass. Bob took no shit. He was indeed a warrior. If you were included in his circle, you had a friend for life. But don't piss him off.
To this day I miss him terribly.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ..................................