My cat Kansas is gone

He was fifteen years old, which I guess, in cat years is neither here nor there, but maybe mostly "there". He was one of the three original Malibu cats coming with us when we moved here to the desert.

Kansas was a skittish kitten, unlike the other hundred or more babies I raised. I decided he'd be better off staying at home with me. At about four months he came into the kitchen and slammed himself sideways at my feet, and - he was a normal cat after that moment.

There were no scary vet visits, just a slow weight loss and a peaceful slipping over, next to the barn water heater. He won't miss us, but we'll miss him.

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