Darwin has left us

My boy, The Darwinian Terror, left us today. He was 16 years old and spent most of that time with us. I got him from a rescue group, thinking he'd keep Magellan company, but she hated him from the very moment he came into our home and kept up the feud for the rest of her life (she died at home in February of this year at age 18).

Darwin was quite the character. When he arrived, the rescuer said his name was Piper because he had "piped" up while buried under a woodpile and found by his initial rescuer. But he never answered to Piper. I'd call and call and he pretended like that was not his name. That first Christmas, when he started trying to chew on the Christmas tree lights, and we decided that he was defying the theory of evolution, Darwin seemed like the most fitting name so we changed it. And that cat answered from the very first moment we called him Darwin. It was as if he had been waiting for a dignified name to acknowledge.

Although we called him The Darwinian Terror, he was a friendly, easy-going cat, who got along with everyone (unlike Magellan whose nickname was The Devil's Cat). He wasn't too happy when Hamlet, our other male, joined the household and went berzerk, marking all over the house, which was most unpleasant, but he stopped those shenanigans when we started letting him spend time outdoors in the yard, which he loved.

It's hard to believe that he is gone, after so many years. And so unexpectedly. By the time we noticed this afternoon that he was failing it was too late. I feel very guilty that I didn't pay more attention to him earlier today when I saw him lying down on top of some dirty clothes near the washing machine in the basement, and wonder whether had I noticed something was amiss we could have saved him. But there's no point to that.

He is gone. And he had a lengthy and happy life. And he will be sorely missed. Our home will not be the same without our Darwin.