Bennie

Our cat, Benihana (Bennie for short) died early this year. It was more difficult than you might imagine - certainly harder than I thought it would be. One afternoon I was bringing the kids up to bed for their naps. There was Bennie, at the top of the stairs, laying on the floor. He gave one great cough and was gone. Helena saw the whole thing and wanted to know why his eyes were open so wide. I hastily brought them downstairs and dispatched Dan to figure out what had happened - but I already knew.

There were, in fact, two good things about this situation. One, Dan was working from home that day. He was there to help us, and to put Bennie outside, and deal with an emotional mom and a REALLY emotional Helena. Two, Bennie was inside the house, not prowling outside as he often did. I'm glad that we knew it happened, knew what happened (essentially, a heart attack), and that he wasn't lost in a snowbank somewhere, never to return home.

After the ground was thawed this spring, Dan buried him in a corner of our backyard.

We first got Bennie from our good friend Georgia, who had received Bennie from another friend who'd picked him up as a stray. He was the most friendly cat I'd ever met - almost like a dog in his devotion. He came when we called his name. He slept on the bed with us, occasionally curling up under the covers. He was incredibly gentle with the kids, even when they tugged on his tail and tried to use him as a pillow. He made the neighborhood his home and had everyone wrapped around his...well, paw, I guess. Really - our neighbors were sad to hear he'd gone.

Pictures speak volumes. He was wonderful with Helena and Hunter.


He liked to curl up in random, and sometimes strange, places.




He had a special love for trying to fit into places which were much too small for his somewhat pudgy self.


We all loved Bennie and will always remember his sweet, affectionate ways. Luckily, I have no doubt that this kitty will be going to heaven.