Pumpkin

Our sweet baby Pumpkin went to sleep May 8, 2009. It was supposed to rain that day , but the sun came out just for Punky. We carried him to his favorite spot in the back yard, where the sun was shining brightly, fresh air, birds all singing softly in the trees. With Jerry right there next to us, Punky went to sleep in my arms, knowing that he was loved so much. He didn’t suffer. He just fell asleep in the sunshine, his favorite thing to do. Now the house seems so hollow without him. He filled these last eight years with so much love and happiness. Back in 2001, he showed up in our driveway on Mothers’ Day. We fell in love with him immediately. When he came to live with Jerry and me, he turned us from a couple into a family. He slept between our heads every night, his tiny motor purring that soft little sound of contentedness. Sometimes, he’d even get purring so hard that the sound would bubble out of his nose. That always made us laugh. Sometimes he would reach out his soft tail and tickle us with the tip of it as he fell asleep. Like little kitty kisses goodnight. He followed us around the house, wherever we went. He just wanted to be with us. If we were eating dinner, he’d eat too, occasionally shopping off of our plates to see if what we were eating was better than what he had. Salmon and chicken were his faves, along with an occasional treat of macaroni and cheese or Fritos. He was our little Frito Bandito. He'd sneak up and swipe a Frito and take off with it in his mouth to enjoy it in privacy. Oh, and whipped cream. When he heard the sound of it being squirt out of the can, he’d come running. All he had to do was look at me with those big sweet eyes and he knew he’d get his own little squirt onto his plate, or he’d lick it off of my finger with his little sandpaper tongue. And Punky loved it whenever Jerry would cook up some big piece of something on the grill because he knew he'd get a little piece of it. One time, Jerry left a freshly bbq’d pork shoulder resting on the kitchen island. When we went back into the kitchen a few minutes later, there was Punky, digging into it with his delicate kitty gusto. That roast was twice as big as Punky, and he had a look on his face like he had just discovered Kitty Elysium. All we could do was laugh. We never did get mad at Punky. Everything he did was done with such sweet innocence. And was usually either really cute, really funny, or both.

Last night I thought I heard him purring. I hope that means that wherever he is, he is happy. I hope that they have lots of sunny spots for him to nap in, and lots of giant roasts for him to nibble. We love our little guy, and we always will. He’s gonna live forever inside of us, in the million sweet, funny, adorable memories we have of sharing our lives with him. Our little man in furry pajamas.

Jerry & Samantha Edwards