So, let me give you a little bit of storytime for the day kiddies.

Today started like any other day. Hot morning sun through our window, offset by the cool AC of our central air. My two year old cat, Rogue, hopped up on my chest to relax and get some lovin.

Then, it was up to start the normal day of relaxing and ChaCha answering. I fed Rogue in the morning like I always do, and was rewarded with his cute way of clawing up my leg like a scratching post while looking for head rubs.

Grabbed a drink and passed the BS with Steph's cousin Alli who had crashed for the night before starting her ride back home to VA

Steph decided it was about time to make lunch, so she grabbed what was left of the fishsticks from the freezer, and started to clean the pan to cook them on. I got up to get another drink, and was greeted once again with Rogue's paws on my thigh, looking for head rubs. I remarked "He's so cute when he does that"

I then kissed and caressed my girlfriend, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. All this... till the unexpected happened.

We heard a strange, gurgling noise from the floor, and looked down to see Rogue siezing, and then going limp.

In the blink of an eye... my cat had passed away. No warning signs. Nothing. The vet said that he must have just had a weak heart and nothing could have been done to know until it was too late.

My house feels so empty now. Every little sound I hear, I think it's him. My mind plays tricks on me and swears I see him moving just outside my field of vision. I keep expecting when I sit on the couch to have little paws shooting out from underneath the couch, whacking my feet. As we went to bring him back to the vet to prepare for his cremation, I almost instinctively filled his food dish. And the one thing I miss the most: I'll never have his paws on my thigh, hoping for a headrub