Today we said goodbye to Mr. Mac, our 20 year old 20 lb orange red mountain lion of a cat. We were not Mac's first family but we were his last and nobody loved him better.
Mac came to us after losing his original homeowner to cancer. He made a brief stop at my brothers but another, far less mannered feline, made the situation untenable. Mac moved onto Howell Avenue and never looked back.
He was known to one and all, afraid of neither man nor beast and fairly indiscriminate with his affection. Our next door neighbor reported one day that Mac, sensing a new opportunity, entered an open door and made himself at home in an upstairs bedroom. Location was not a deterrent to a good nap.
A strappingly handsome chap, Mac was stolen one year from our front yard by someone who wanted to give him as a Christmas present. We recovered him, weeks later, only because he had been rescued (yet again!) by the neighbor of the woman who did NOT want him as a Christmas present but saw our wanted poster at the local vet's office.
He loved to eat and expected a full bowl at all times. Chicken was a favorite along with my morning cereal but shrimp put him right over the top. He kept his own dining hours and expected that I would match my routine to his. Not much for playtime, Mac preferred to supervise rather than participate in any activity that required excessive locomotion. That being said, a loose shoe string or belt always got his attention.
Mac enjoyed a good college basketball game and was a Redskins fan but thought golf was a snooze. And NACAR? He didn't give it the time of day. He loved sleeping in the garden, most often under a spread of hostas or on the chaise. He claimed a chair or sofa in each room in the house and did not take kindly to being moved. After all, it was his house and we were there at his indulgence.
He was my constant companion and I will miss him dearly.
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