My Tic Tac (1999 - 2013)

My view when I'd wake up.

My Tic Tac was adopted from the San Francisco SPCA in 1999, and has lived in five cities since. He loved vanilla ice cream, fresh water, and clam. He used to take shortcuts to get to the other side of where he was going, and scratched my furniture (and legs) getting there… and he often jumped on my chest. It hurt. I would scream, “TIC TAAAAAAAAAAAC!” He’d get scared, and run in place before he scrammed… just like a cartoon character. He continued to “shortcut” anyway. Sometimes he would relax in the empty bathtub. Whenever he got into mischief, and I caught him, we’d have a full Mexican stare down… sometimes we’d get in staring contests too. He always won. He had the cutest paws ever… and he used to lay on his back spread eagle, and just chill. He was the fluffiest. The dudes thought he was a cool cat… but Tic Tac didn’t feel the same about them. He was observant. He was a fat duck too. He used to smother the shit out of me, and would cock block the other cats from my love… and from the kitty litter. He was jealous of my iPhone. He was the most affectionate, loyal, lovable, soft, snuggly, eccentric, and peculiar cat I’ve ever known. He was human to me (though, I cannot say I’ve met a human who could provide such authentic, innocent, loyal, unconditional love as pets do). I wish everyone who came over could’ve seen the softer side of Tic Tac that I knew. He was traumatized, and as a result, Tic Tac was a total dick to anyone who crossed his path. Hence, the nickname, “Dick Tac.” My friend, Kevin, brought him steak once and tried to feed it to him, but Tic Tac python hissed and tried to sucker punch him with his claws. He only bonded with me, and that was special.  He used to get dry mouth when he was nervous, and he was a total mama’s boy. I was his mom. He always looked at me longingly, and greeted me with constant meows when I'd come home, and pucker his big whisker cheeks like the Cadbury Bunny... and he always made these affectionate breathing sounds when I'd embrace him.  When this stopped, I knew something was wrong.  When he got sick, our roles reversed and I smothered him. I became his nurturing full-time caretaker, and had to clean his paws and bung more than once daily. I gave him injections and pills; syringe fed him; carried him to the cat litter, and with me everywhere in the house. I bestowed upon him non-stop love and affection. I didn’t hang out and socialize, so I could be with Ticky. I didn't mind, and wanted to keep him for longer. I still haven’t adjusted, and think I’m going to see him when I wake up, or come home from work. My heart still feels empty without him… and that is no bueno. RIP, my sweet baby boy.  

That's all.