In 1997 one of my coworkers had a stray cat show up in his backyard and have kittens. My coworker decided to adopt the mother and one of the kittens and give the others away. I don't remember how many there were. One of our other coworkers, the lady who introduced me to my husband, in fact, took one of the kittens. After wondering if Hobbit, my 5lb black cat of terror would accept another cat in the apartment, or eat it, I decided I would take in this last available kitten.
Hobbit did NOT eat the kitten. I decided to name her Tibboh. In case you can't see it immediately, Tibboh is Hobbit spelled backwards. Yeah, I was super clever in my 20's. It turned out to be a brilliant name and these two cats could not have been more different from each other. One, tiny and black, and super vicious to everyone except me (and later my husband, step kids and daughter) - the other orange, white and brown and (very quickly) a literally huge bundle of love (expect she was the one that had problems with the step kids, at first).
Hobbit made it to nearly 19 years old when we had to say goodbye in October, 2010.
Tibboh nearly make it to 17 when we had to say goodbye today.
I already miss her always greeting me at the front door. I miss her following me into the bathroom. I miss her stalking me whenever I go to the kitchen. I miss her accosting me as I sit on the couch. I miss the click of the nails she'd never let me cut, on our floor as she roamed the house. I just miss her and this absolutely sucks.
This is the first time I have been petless since 1990. Or 1991. I thought Hobbit was born in 1990, but I have vet documents that show she was getting shots and fixed in 1991. So that's over 20 years of two cats in my life. For a good decade, it was just me and them. Then I met my husband and my step kids and our family got bigger, but for 10 years, my cats where my home and my love.
I miss you, Tibboh the Terrible. Thank you so much for being part of our lives.