After 15 years, Cinder finally gave it up. He died an old man this morning in his sleep.
When we picked him out, we asked for the feistiest cat of the litter, and we certainly got it. He made up his own rules. He persistently fought to go outside despite being an inside cat until we finally just accepted that he was going to run out the back door every time we opened it anyway, and just let him go. He even learned to stand on his hind legs and scratch his claws on the glass door knowing that sooner or later we’d come and let him out. He loved to spend all day just laying on the deck, or in the weeds, or under some tree. Despite being old and frail he continually proved he still had the fight inside him, coming back from what looked like death 3 times before this. Even last summer he went into the weeds and killed a bird and dropped at our feet as to show us all he still had it. He drank the sap water from the basin of the Christmas tree. He was that kind of cat.
I can’t think of a better picture than the one above to exemplify all that Cinder was.
Even though it was his time, he’ll be missed greatly.