Well, I wasn’t planning on writing another cat obituary so soon, but here we are.

Our cat, Twinky, passed away today.

His death hurts in a different way compared to when our cat, Missy, passed in March. We adopted Twinky, a Norweigan Forest cat, back in June 2003 when he was just a little kitten. The moment we walked into the home of the family who was looking for someone to adopt him, and I saw him sprawled across the woman’s lap, I knew I’d loved him already. He was scruffy and cream-colored with a white belly reminiscent of, you guessed it, Hostess’ signature golden, spongy, cream-filled treats, Twinkies. I remember begging my mom, “Please, Mom, can we keep him? We’ll take really good care of him. We even have a name for him… Twinky.”

We took him home that day after stopping to get McDonald’s on the way home. Twinky was incredibly feisty and eager to run around his new home. He chased my two siblings and me, and we giggled and ran away in delight as we feasted on our McNuggets and fries. He was a messy eater when he was little, as he wasn’t fond of drinking water at first, so to compensate, my mom would add water to his food. He’d sloppily eat while making these high-pitched slurping noises, and afterward, his face would be covered in wet food, and she’d clean it off with a damp paper towel.

Twinky was picky about the things he liked, whether it was certain flavors of food or brands of litter. He later even had two litter boxes! But, above everything else, he was wonderfully loving and friendly. He’d be there to greet us at the door when we got home from work, sniffing at the outside air. He also meowed a lot. While some cats only cry if they want their humans to feed them, Twinky would cry as if engaging in a pleasant conversation with us. I’d meow back at him, and he’d let out another short meow, so I’d meow again, and he’d once again meow back at me. I liked to see how long the chain would go before he’d stop.

He also never shied away from strangers. Instead of running and hiding when we’d have family members over for a holiday, he’d sit comfortably in the middle of the room, or even walk around as if he were part of the festivities. He welcomed anyone willing to give him a piece of turkey or whatever it was they were eating at the time. He especially loved licking the remnants of Progresso soup cans. Whenever I’d eat soup, I’d give him the bowl afterward, and he’d happily lap up the last bit of broth.

What was also special was that Twinky was actually the subject of an end-of-semester project I did for a Basic Media Production course I took in college back in 2012. I titled the project “A Day in the Life of a Cat” and documented a typical day in Twinky’s life: eating, sleeping in a box and dreaming he was a king à la The Lion King. (I may or may not have taken some creative liberties with that last one.)

It’s the many warm memories that help to soothe the harsh sting of loss. It’s always hard losing a pet, as they become such important members of your family, especially when you grow up with them. I’m going to miss coming home and seeing him at the door. I’m going to miss his meow, his purr, his soft, fluffy fur. (I genuinely didn’t mean to rhyme, but there it is, haha.)

What I think I’ll miss the most, though, is scooping him up in my arms and holding him after a long day of work. He’d rest his chin on my shoulder and cling to me with his paws, sometimes nuzzling his nose in my hair. I’d hug him and give him some kisses, and often I’d bring him to the mirror that hangs on our kitchen wall, and he’d sniff at it or put his paw on his reflection.

In short, he was a big, loveable cat who fit in perfectly with our family. I’m glad we got to watch him grow and be with us for the past 14 years. He’ll always be part of our family, and he’ll always have a special place in my heart. I love you, Twinky.

❤ In memory of Twinky ❤

April 30, 2003 — June 27, 2017