I am heartbroken to share that my little black cat Poe (8/17/02—07/21/20), just shy of 18, has passed.
Poe was the runt of his litter, and an ex and I rescued him from a filthy house in which he was sleeping in an oven when he was just eight weeks old. We’d already chosen the name Poe, even though the lady called him Sam. We got to the house, and he was nowhere to be found (there were like 100 cats). Tom called “Poe” and he came right to us. For the rest of his life, he always came running when I called his name.
Poe was extremely intelligent, and a bit of a wisecracker—there were times I could almost see him rolling his eyes at his less-than-bright brother, Mikey. He loved his bacon, and at Thanksgiving, he was constantly sitting in an empty seat and trying to get at the turkey. He also loved cream cheese (I was prepping for a party once, left to use the restroom, came back into the kitchen, and he was Read the rest of this entry