Where do I begin? On a whim, I stopped by Centinela Pet Feed on Sepulveda Blvd (Culver City, maybe?) around July 2005. It was a Saturday and they were having cat adoptions. There was a big cage in the middle with you, 2 of your brothers and a sister. Your other 3 siblings were rolling around and acting all crazy and silly in the front. I noticed your sister first, as she had such a beautiful face pattern (one half white, one half black). I was staring at them playing and then I noticed you, in the back, by yourself. You were sitting with all of your paws tucked underneath you. Later I would realize this was your position when you were a little bit scared/nervous/uneasy. I was really drawn to how you were not a part of the party. I could see how sensitive you were, so I asked the lady to hold you. I held you to my chest and you were looking directly in my eyes. In hindsight, I know what the look was: "Who are you? Am I safe with you". I fell in love and told the lady I wanted to adopt you.

You were always such a silly boy. Very vocal, always meowing for something. You never stopped purring. Your favorite place in the house was the kitchen and I could always count on you being right by my feet while I was in there. God forbid I brought home some type of baked chicken, you would harass my until I gave some choice cuts.

You were very dog-like. You followed me around all the time. You would come up to greet me when I came home. Always begging for food.

You stayed in very good shape up until your last year. Your step-sister, Lilly, was older than you and had a worse decline with her joints.

The last 6 months of your life, there were 3 times I was sure you were dying. All 3 you stopped eating, but you bounced back each time. I couldn't believe it. Right up until the end, you never stopped having a good appetite. That last week was really rough for you. I could see you were uncomfortable. I had to take you that last day to the vet to do a sanitary cut on your butt and trim some ingrown nails. When I put you in the carrying case, you were too weak to jump out but starting meowing really sad. I played some nice piano music in the car and I started getting really emotional and crying. Looking back, I think I knew the end was near. The vet tech cleaned you up and I took you home. When I opened the carrying case, you walked out and laid down in the floor (on top of training pads. The whole house was covered with training pads because you were having accidents everywhere). I saw that you were peeing while lying on your side and I kept changing the pads. I would pet you and you would meow and look at me, but you weren't moving. I think that last vet visit was just too stressful for you. I have a lot of guilt over that.

We said good night to you. I touched you and you gave a really loud meow. I told you I love you and scratched your chin and cheeks. I came back a few hours later and you were in the same position, but when I touched you, you were cold. I knew you were gone. Your eyes were still open, staring off into infinity. I like to think you just drifted off into the next life.

You were cremated and your ashes were spread along the beach.

My favorite memory of you was when we were in our old house and you were in the backyard. We had this huge jasmine bush and I remember seeing you close your eyes and sniff the flowers while the breeze was blowing your hair. It was just a beautiful site.

Two days after you left, I was outside with my son and this big wasp flew right between us and landed right by our feet. It was a Tarantula Hawk, one of my favorite insects, and I've never seen one up close. I took a video of it. It was just exploring the rocks and looking impressive and beautiful. Then we got into our car and started driving and the Tarantula Hawk flew along side our car, by the passenger window, pacing us for 100 feet, then flew away. I like to think that was a message from you, letting us know you're ok.

The house is so empty without you and it feels so weird to not have you in the kitchen. I pray that you have an entire kitchen to yourself with a team of personal chefs, feeding anything and everything you want. I miss you, Frankie. See you when we get there.

Please also visit Lilly.