Linus: March 28, 1990 - Dec 19, 2006

Linus, the most beloved and bestest cat in the history of the world, passed away peacefully in his person's arms a few days ago after bravely facing a short and sudden illness. He was nearly 17.

As a kitten, he quickly mastered all the difficult tricks: flying, levitation, wall climbing, and plant destruction. It was during this phase of his life that he earned the nickname "Booger-cat!" which stuck with him his whole life. But he was a gentle and loving spirit that won over all he met, cat-lovers and cat-haters alike.









As he matured, the "boogerish" aspects of his personality faded, and he remained gentle and sweet, and a constant "couch buddy" to his person.




There will be other cats in his person's life; there will never be another cat like Linus.
Linus leaves behind an empty sunbeam, his toy mouse, his spot on the couch, his sixteen-year old scratching post, the cat blanket he never used, and the tears of his heart-broken person.






Linus was simply the best cat ever. He was sweet, funny, snuggly, warm, crazy, and smart. He talked a lot, and was very expressive. He always slept beside me.




Here's Daniel and Linus together. it's Linus's first moving day, although neither cat seem very pleased.
Linus, my friend, companion, and furry hot water bottle, I miss you terribly...

Cheyenne

Cheyenne was a beautiful little brown pure-bred Burmese cat.

Sadly, Cheyenne suffered from horrible skin allergies for most of her life and she left her people at far too young an age.

She was a sweet little affectionate furball who loved to snuggle and curl up, She had a strong spirit and endured a lot of hardhip in her short life.
She is missed very much.

Linus and Cheyenne

The joke went like this:
Daniel was my ex's cat.
Linus was my cat.
And Cheyenne was Linus's cat.

It wasn't always this way. Linus was not impressed with having to deal with a new little cat in the house. He growled and hissed and moaned. It was all show, of course.
Two days after she arrived, Linus was sitting up in a chair and Cheyenne sauntered by, not paying him any attention. Linus growled and swung out a paw. Cheyenne swung out a paw of her own. Linus started batting her with both paws. And she started batting back. Within minutes, the two of them were flying around the house chasing, playing, rolling, and flying together. Linus was totally confused. He was purring because he was having so much fun, and he was growling because that's what you do to new cats!

The growling very quickly stopped, and Linus and Cheyenne were utterly unseperatable. They were one cat with two heads and eight paws.

Sadly, Cheyenne only lived eight years. But she is well-loved and much missed.

Daniel

Daniel belonged to the woman who became my wife, and later became my ex-wife. He was an SPCA cat, rescued by my ex at the age of two (Daniel, not my ex).
He was a little skittish and nervous of strangers, but we took to each other instantly.
My ex described Daniel as neurotic, but he was also one of those cats who tried to always maintain his dignity, even when any chance of it had long since vanished.
He had small paws. He slept curled up in ball. He would ignore toy mice, but occasionly he would surprise everyone by finding one and going crazy with it for hour or longer -- until he realized that he was the centre of attention. Then he would drop the mouse and try to deny everything.
He lived a long happy life, and he is missed by all who knew him.




Here's Daniel and Linus together. It's Linus's first moving day, although neither cat seem very pleased.


A rare photo of Linus, Cheyenne and Daniel (and yours truly).

Holly

Holly was a sweet little kitten that we got in 1992.
When we got her home, we quickly realized that she was a natural retriever! We spent the evening throwing a small pencil down the hall, and she would happily run down the hall and bring it back, dropping it at our feet.
Sadly, Holly became very ill within days and passed away after only a week with us. She was a sweet little cat that left too soon.
This is the only picture that we took of her, curled up beside Linus.

Tussy

Tussy was my first cat that I got when I was eight just after my family moved to Victoria from Montréal. In Montréal, it was decided that I was allergic to cats. Even though I loved cats, I wasn't allowed to have one.
Here in Victoria, I was visiting a new friend's house when I mentioned that I liked cats. My friend's mother knew someone who's cat had had kittens and was trying to adopt them out. One phone call later, I had a cat.

I'm not sure where the name Tussy came from, but that quickly became his formal name. His usual name was Fleabag. You can figure out why. Now I think it's a horrible thing to call a cat Fleabag, but it was always meant with affection.
Tussy was always a bit of a scrapper and often came home with fresh wounds to show for it. He seemed particularly unfond of raccoons. And they of him.
This rough and tumble existence may have taken some years off his life. He died of old age many years too soon.




My dad took this picture. It remains one of my favourite cat pictures. Tussy loved being in front of the fire.