My sister was one of those girls who didn’t have many friends. She was lonely. So we got her a cat, a black and white a maine coon mix with a white strip on his back. He was very heavy. From what I had heard that maine coons were too have heart problems and diabetes. Well we named him Stripes. My sister shared her secrets with him. She grew up with him. And I too, but he was older. I also shared my secrets with him and I was popular. Soon my sister made friends, and her time with him lapsed away. He was always a docile cat, unlike the calico cat we bought for my sis. We named the shecat Princess. My dad was allergic to cats, but he still got them for her. He was like a father to her. He protected her from Taki, our dog. He would whop her butt.
When we moved to Florida, we lived with my grandmother for my second time in second grade. We took them out of Jessa’s (my sis) and my room. My grandmother’s cats wanted to get together with Princess, but Stripes being a father protected her. He very rarely meowed, `cause his meow was wimpy, girly, and just plain out pathetic. Stripes had this glare that made even the toughest of cats howl in fear.
We lived on Belvedere street from third grade till most of seventh grade. While we were there Stripes followed us everywhere. By then Jessa and me had gotten a bonk bed. Stripes had always walked up the latter to lie next to me, and then he would jump off later. One night when he jumped down he let of a dreadful meow. At first no one knew if was of pain. It was like that for many days and nights. Then he hide under my bed, he wouldn’t eat or drink `cause it was too much pain to move. I went up there with some water and some food and placed in next to him. He eat the food fast, a drank the water quickly. I went to move him out when I felt the he was damp, and he let out a painful wail. I let him go fast. I moved the suitcase away from him and it was really wet. It was clear he had been peeing on it. My eyes had widen. I slid back out from under my bed and ran down stairs, scared out of my mind. I told my parents everything. We took him to the vet and it turns out that his joints were aching. After that he stayed in the bathroom. He loved sleeping in the bottom cabinet under the sink. Of course I had a heart of gold, so I put a small blanket, a white cat stuffed animal, and a pillow inside with him. He loved it even more.
My mom decided to get him out of the bathroom. We had him sleep in the kitchen from then on. One day my mom came out of the kitchen from doing dishes. She told my sister something, but I couldn’t hear. But my sister busted out crying. I asked was is wrong and my mom said that Stripes died. It was not quick and soft, but slow and painful. I started crying as well. He tried fighting it, he wanted to live but his heart just gave out on him. Later on I went into the kitchen to get a drink. By then I had almost stopped crying. I looked down by the frig and saw him lying in the bottom half of the cat carrier. His eyes were open. I dared not to touch him, so I got my drink and left. When my dad came home we took his body to my grandmothers house and buried him there. Both Jessa and me cried silently. His death had happen in November, my birthday month. Till this day I still have those three things that I had gave to Stripes. But my whole household family misses him. But I know that I have a space in my heart where his love would be, but it’ll never be fill. But I’ll will always love others. But I will never forget him.