Life According to Tonks, In Memoriam

Tonks was a great cat. A cool cat. A cat for the ages. She had beautiful amber eyes and a sleek black body. A little bit clumsy, but that was a part of her charm, and her namesake.

In the morning she would stand outside of the shower, waiting for me to open the door so that she could hop in and lap at the puddles of water. Then she would lie on the vanity as I made my way through my morning regimen. She would run out of her door as I was preparing to go out of mine, meeting me in the yard and walking me to the garage door, as long as she wasn’t side-tracked by something more fun, like a blade of grass. When I came home at lunch and opened the front door to check the mail, she’d run out from under her favorite bush and inside, waiting until I left before going outside again. I’d come home from work and find her curled up on my bed. She’d stretch and come over to rub against my legs as I changed for a run on the treadmill. She’d follow me upstairs and patiently wait for me to finish.

When I worked in the office, she’d hop up and steal my pens off of the desk, carrying them off the desk so she could pat them around on the floor. She loved the sound of the printer. If she were downstairs, she would come running, use me as a step, and jump onto the desk to watch the printer. She would sometimes try to catch the print head with her paw as it was moving side to side.

Even though I bought her toys, she never played with them. She would play with the Tigger ears headband that I got at Disneyland. Chew on an ear and clutch it with her hind paws. Paper towel rolls, cut in thirds was another of her favorites. She also loved the metal catch basket in the sink in the guest bathroom. I’d come home and find it in the middle of the living room floor. Even after gluing it in with silicon.

At night, she’d come in and sleep on a fleece blanket beside me. If she got cold, she’d curl up next to me under the covers.

Tonks was a great cat. A cool cat. A cat for the ages.