Published by admin on 26 Jan 2011
I was a freshman in college, had just moved into an apartment with my best friend and decided it would be very grown up of me to get a cat of my very own.
We went down to the Humane Society in Minneapolis, and I looked at all the kittens. There was a little guy who was kind of on his own, doing his own thing. I picked him up and he fell asleep in my arms immediately. He was the one.
We took him home and he forgot all about sleeping, which is how he got his name. He learned how to play fetch with a ball of tin foil. He got declawed (the worst decision I ever made) and he grew very large.
I moved away from Minneapolis and back to Phoenix, and Scooter came with me. I got another cat (Owen) to keep him company, and got my first AOL account, which was a play on Scooter’s name.
I moved around a lot in those years, and finally ended up in California. He lived with me in California for a year before I got a roommate who was allergic to cats. And my mom took over the care of Scooter and Owen. I really loved those dumb cats.
Owen died two years ago, in Seattle.
Scooter died this week.
He was a good, loving cat. He had sensitive feet from the declawing, and he weighed a million pounds until he went missing for six weeks. I loved having him in my life, and I’m sorry I didn’t get to see him when I was in Seattle at Christmas. But I’ll always remember my Scooter Pie.