Cosmo, 1996-2008

This afternoon, while having his ears scritched by his mom, Sweet Cosmo finally found peace after years of fighting his numerous respiratory issues and infections. He was just too tired to fight anymore, the sweet boy.

He came to us the year we got married, the son of a stray. From the beginning, he had the markings of royalty. Our Georgia vet swore he had some Abyssinian in him.

The first night he stayed with us, he cried. And cried. For years he was known around vet offices as "the talker." He was named for Cosmo Kramer for the way he entered a room.

Early on, we knew he was clever. He would jimmy the dresser drawers open and steal socks, hiding them all over the apartment.

During the move from GA to NY, he cried the whole night in the hotel room. THE WHOLE NIGHT. Even Otis was tired of it. It was Coz's way of saying "This ain't right!"

There is nothing he loved more than a nap in a sunbeam.

Or a snuggle with his Daddy.

Did I mention he loved sunbeams? And Dobby. He loved Dobby. They played, they play-fought, and they snuggled.

Of course, you can't forget his hobby of playing in the water bowl.

It was this particular habit that made me realize he wasn't doing so well. When I stopped seeing the splashes of water around the bowl, I knew he wasn't himself. And he knew it long before I did.

My poor, sweet boy. He'd been reduced to five pounds (in his prime he'd been close to ten), and his temperature was eight degrees below normal. He was just tired of fighting.

This is the last picture I took of my sweet boy, minutes before we went to the vet this afternoon. I have to thank the wonderful doctor who whispered sweet nothings to him as he passed away. It's not often that you get that kind of love when you pass from this world.

I like to think that Milo is introducing him to all kinds of new friends. And that he has plenty of catnip toys. And a never-ending, cool and clear waterfall.

I miss you already, Sweet Cosmo. You were a gem, and you were mine. And I was totally and completely yours.