Goodbye, Tiggy-Puff

This post is very overdue, I had intended to write an update on our friend on January 22, suggesting that he might live forever, but here it is, already half way through February.

As many of you know, we said good-bye to Tigger on January 24.  He had a good long life--18.5 years in all, 18 of those years with us.  He outlived his buddies MJ, Cass, and Indy, as well as the Jeep Wrangler, the Volvo, and that Subaru.  He joined me while I was still in my 20's, and, well, here I am, clearly not in my 20's :)

Tiggy started his life with us in our favorite apartment in Denver--with a patio overlooking the duck pond and a great tree to climb. He was a funny looking kitten, inspiring the hit song, "Tiny headed Tigger, maybe someday you'll get bigger...."  After a few months, we moved to the townhouse, where he (with some skepticism) welcomed Indy, then The Girl, and finally The Boy.  Tiggy learned to love Indy.  They loved to play "pets on the stairs", even after Indy grew too big to fit comfortably.  Tiggy also like to have Indy chase him through the cat door, although that didn't always end well for Indy.  My favorite picture of the two of them is both on their hind legs peeking out the front screen door to spy on the neighborhood.

Tiggy moved to the Suburban Ranch with us--he learned to love the new backyard and the stairs to run up and down (and down and up).  He learned quickly not to sleep on the railing though, as he fell off and apparently gave himself a concussion and a detached retina.

On that note, he was not the smartest cat, in fact, in all truthfulness, he was not very smart...he is famous for getting his head stuck in things as a young cat, like yogurt cups and kleenex boxes. He didn't learn to purr until after MJ left us and was not good a personal hygiene, even in his prime.

Tigger was a good friend to both the kids though--when I went looking for pictures, there were few that didn't include him being toted, cuddled, or otherwise posed with a child.  He never randomly attacked anyone (unlike his cohort, Alice).  As a younger cat, he loved to sleep in cribs, baby swings, high chairs, and pack and plays.  He and The Boy had an on-going (soft-pawed) battle for the crib...I would find them often in a silent battle for who owned the space.  I'm not sure who actually won--I usually found them curled up together sleeping mid-battle.  He was fearless right up to the end, taking on Morrison and Liberty for water (bowl) rights and causing them to have to wait their turn so he could stare at their water instead of his.

Good-bye, Old Friend, you will be missed.