When I was young, we had one cat---for a few weeks. She was an unbelievably mean Siamese who literally hated everything. Living in the country, cats are almost a necessity to keep the mice at bay. In elementary school, we got an 8 month old dark orange tabby. His owners had picked him up as a stray kitten just a few weeks old, but had decided they no longer wanted him. He was extremely stand-offish and wasn't much of a snuggler. We had had him a week when he started acting...well, odd. A visit to the vet revealed that our cheap stray kitty needed $300 treatment for a urinary tract infection. The day he came home he was a different cat--loving, clingy, snuggly...a people-lover. He slept with me every night and loved getting attention. We have a big window on the front of our house, and he would sit in it and wave at you when you left or came home. Other than the one incident when we first got him, he has been a perfectly healthy cat since then. No health problems. Yesterday, my perfectly healthy, 9-year-old snuggle buddy died. I have no idea why and he hasn't been acting different at all. He was fine all week, and all that day. No signs of any underlying illness or discomfort. He's the only cat I've really ever had. The other animals don't seem to be very affected by it yet. Every now and then Mudflap will look for him in all his usual napping places, and when she gives up she'll busy herself with a toy. Nick is acting pretty much the same, but seems a bit detached. He and Tanner were buddies. I can't help but wonder why my healthy cat would die for seemingly no reason. There has to be something but I have yet to find it and don't really have the want to right now. The empty window, his cat cube, litter box, food dish, and all his napping spots are constant reminders of my furry friend. I miss him so much and he will always have a very dear place in my heart.