R.I.P. Vader

One of our cats (we had 4) died today. We're not even sure why. Vader was perfectly fine yesterday as far as I know.

He came in today "talking" to us like he always does ("aowwwwww....aowwwwww....") but this time he seemed to be in a bit of pain or distress. Then he coughed up something green, but we just thought it was some grass.

Then Vader went outside to lie in the sun, and when I came home from my son's game this afternoon, he (the cat) was gone. His mom Yoda (yes we let the kids name the cats) was off to the side, just looking at him. I think she knew. My husband thinks I'm crazy for thinking that cats know stuff like that.

Vader was not quite four. Just a kid. He used to follow our dog around the yard when we let him (the dog) out. He was the only one of our cats who wasn't spooked by the dog. He was probably the coolest cat we had.

Of the three we have left now: Spot (the oldest) is like a geriatric Garfield; he just eats and sleeps and sheds massively on my (dark) clothes. Yoda is an OK pet but she gets white hair on everything, though she does love to cuddle with ED and like to have her tummy rubbed. One of her flaws is that her nose always seems to be runny and she likes to rub it on your hand while you are petting her. Yoda's last living kitten, Chewie, is afraid of everything, doesn't like to be petted, and is really just a waste of a pet, though he is pretty. I think if cats can be autistic, Chewie would be.

Hopefully Vader is now playing with his brother Luke (who got hit by a car) and his unnamed sister (who died at birth) in kittie heaven--killing birds, snakes and voles to his heart's content.