Sheri and I got Truman during our first year of marriage. He was rescued from a stable near Jackson, Tennessee. He was born a barn cat. But he was being abused by one of the owner kids. We just took him. They didn't care. We named him "Truman" after the mascot of the University of Missouri (my alma mater) Tigers. He held onto his barn cat ways for a while - stealing food from us. (There was a infamous incident with a Popeye's chicken leg that is now recalled with fondness.) He settled into the role of alpha cat in our house as more friends were added over time - holding that distinction nearly until the end. He was a friendly, social cat who knew everything going on in the house and loved to sit on your lap to make your day better. He has been around for our daughters' entire lives. He has seen all animals we have been blessed to care for come, and some go. He lived in four different houses in three different states. Throughout, he has been a steady fixture within our household.
His health began to visibly decline over the past 18 months or so, and then a steep decline over the last three. His death was expected soon. And today, our Lord graciously made that difficult call for us. He was a wise, old cat, full of years and experiences. No cat could ask for more.
