My beautiful Gus - I miss him more each day, not less. For 10 years he slept in my arms. Each night before bed his cold wet nose would descend upon my face, placing a kiss in the corner of my eye. I would cuddle him up in my arms and say “no kissing”. He would then wedge his big body between Carma and me - being in the center of it all was a necessity. Carma would knead his stomach like a ball of dough with her paws and he would sing happily in my ear.

In the morning, if I wasn't proceeding fast enough with our routine, Gus would let me know. He demonstrated minor impatience by jumping up on the bookcase and rubbing his face on the radio antenna. I would peek around the corner and he would let out a raspy meow. I would continue to peek and retreat behind the door until he walked to the edge of the bookcase and meow - stretching his neck out as far as possible to give me a kiss.

When he demonstrated major impatience he would not even let me have a few seconds for a morning pee. I would be on the toilet, barely awake, and Gus would position himself on the bathroom floor near the sink, ready to catapult himself up to the counter where he would proceed to lick my toothbrush. I would yell “don’t you do it Gus” and he would look at me as I tried to hurry the flow of urine. In defiance he would turn his eyes back to the countertop and launch his cat body through the air, waltz over to my toothbrush and commence licking. Once again the price to be paid for such antics was a hug and in return he would rub his scent glands all over my face - marking his territory, his human.

Gus in his bed - a strategic location which allowed him to see all rooms in the house - bathroom, bedroom and most importantly, the kitchen.