As some of you know, I have a cat.
His name is Jason.
And I love him so so much. He's black and white, very fat, and sort of an idiot but I love him just the same.
I got him 4 years ago when I was 13 and going through some major crap. I was sort of a brat, and hating myself and fighting with my mom, but tiny Jason (he was so small back then) was always there. He used to claw the crap out of my hands and lick my ears. He thought I was great even when others didn't Even as an outdoor cat, his favorite place to sleep is wherever I have been recently, like this summer when I stayed in my sisters room. Jason would sleep on my bed, or come in while I was sleeping to cuddle with me.
I can remember the first time he brought me a mouse. I appreciate the gesture, Jase, but I don't eat mice. Bad for my digestion. I can also remember when I taught him to kiss. I used to kiss him on his muzzle, one day I leaned in to pet him, and he bumped his nose against my mouth. It was the sweetest thing ever. Even now, he's still the most affectionate towards me, I think.
He's been there for William's birth, for Tony's birth, for those times when I couldn't stop crying and needed a fuzzy pillow to cuddle with
So here we are 4 years later, me in college high school in Las Vegas, he's with my mom in Colorado.
And I miss him so much.
I love you, dumbass. Please don't get mad when I bring home a Freddy for you to play with.