Friday Cat Blogging: Another Life Now Edition

Monday, Darla emailed that Edgar had been killed by a fox or an owl.

These pictures were once in chronological order, but even that didn't tell the story of a sweet, sweet cat friend who would have been eleven years old next month.

Edgar loved to drink Darla's tea, sit cozily in boxes and cuddle up to Darla.

Edgar was very vocal.

If he was outside, he'd tell you he wanted in, and if in, he wanted out.

When Dad was sick, Edgar's mild complaints irritated Dad, which meant I ran around after Edgar for weeks on end.

Even so, it would have been very difficult to hold a grudge against the giant orange pussycat who wanted nothing more than to be near his persons, though mostly near Darla.

This spring, Edgar often climbed trees, then found himself in the very uncatlike position of being unable to get back down.

Darla said the first thing every morning, Edgar put his head under her hand for scritches.

It comforts her now that the other cats curl up to her morning and night.

We say goodbye now to this little one. He was a lovely companion and a charming catfriend.