Ricky

Ricky’s full name was Ric-o-shay Ra-cat Spaz-ma-taz. Losing Ricky so unexpectedly…well I can’t put words to it still. It hurts. Ricky was almost 11 years old. (April 17). We got him right after my shoulder surgery, before my youngest son was diagnosed T1. He has been my support kitty through so many changes this past decade. He literally would sit with me (many times on my shoulder or chest and always right in my face) when I would be treating highs or lows and everyone else would be sleeping. He loved to give head bumps and nose boops. He didn’t like to see me sad or stressed. He talked, a lot, so much so there is a new silence in our house. He followed me to the bathroom every single time. He loved Christmas. As soon as the tree went up he was in it. He loved the ornaments, the lights, the boxes, the wrapping paper. He didn’t like soft food or treats. And cat nip just made him laid back. He didn’t like the cat carrier or being in the car, but he liked our vets. He liked belly rubs. He loved toys and string. He didn’t like to be alone. When he caught a mouse he would take it to his “murder room”( the shower). He didn’t like dents in his food dish. He loved drinking out of the sink. He had a “friend” raccoon outside our stairwell window. He would gently touch your face with his paw to get your attention. He would stretch upside down in my arms, looking like a bow. And did I mention he talked..a lot..in a variety of sounds that were extremely expressive. He loved heights but never made it to the chandelier or the top of the barrister bookcase. He was unique. He was family. And we miss him so very much.