"Warring Ideals in One Dark Body"

I'm sorry I had to send you with your human ma in the divorce. At first it was just logistical--she had your sister already and being the pretty boy, lover boy you always were, your may recall your ass getting kicked on a daily basis by those nasty mudbutt cats belonging my roommate. I was going to have to start calling you Scarface if I didn't Underground Railroad your ass out of there. We didn't think it would be permanent, but I know your mom loves kitties so much that it's hard to let go, and you have that whole feline hydrophilia disorder that meant you liked going out in the rain so you could come in like a pom-pom from the washer and lick and preen every blessed inch of your anatomy and then go back outside to try to do it all over again, and you weren't going to be able to do that at my house. Let the freaks be freaks, I say.

When you peed in your stepdad's shoes I was so proud of you.

I think the divorce was hard on you in ways none of us understood or knew how to help. When your mom told me of the adjustment difficulties you were having, I thought the wide open spaces would be good for you. I was a little jealous. The rest of your days to be with older, more experienced cousin cats who would take you under paw and claw and bring you into adulthood. I've since found out something about that myself, and I know it's a good thing to have trusted critters around to play with, learn from, and who'll grab you by your scruff when you're a little too excited for your own good. I heard you were happy on the farm and had turned into quite a mouser. You really moved up in the barn cat hierarchy.

You couldn't have known that the last mouse you'd catch was already poisoned when you caught it. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Nobody told me you were sick until you were gone. I couldn't have done anything--you had the best care possible--but... I just miss you, man.