
Norman was ready...I just wasn't. But then, I don't think I'd have ever been ready. He was at least 17, maybe a bit older. I had him longer than I've been married, and wherever I went in the house, Norman was always with me, a black shadow right behind me. He slept on my bed, he insisted on sharing my chicken soup with me, he watched my raid's exploits in ICC from beside my elbow. I used to get so mad at him for some of his bad habits. Now I wish I could hear him chewing up paper to let me know he was hungry and wanted dinner NOW just one more time.
He wasn't "just a cat." He was a short, furry person and he damn well knew it. Norman was a hell of a cat, a one-of-a-kind...and by the gods, I love him and I miss him.

Norman - the best damn cat in the world. 1993 - 10/25/2010