fukk outta here. That cat was gangsta. I was looking out for him since he was a kitten. I knew he wasn't going to live long so every morning that I opened my back door to feed him and saw him I was happy. There would be times where he would be gone for days at a time but he would always come back. One day I saw the nikka rolled up out the bushes with two other cats that I've never seen before riding with him like he had a crew or some shyt.
That cat used to come back fukked up sometimes. I remember one time he came back and his eye was messed up. Another time he came back limping. Both times I nursed him back to health then he would just go off again.
The night before I found him dead I had gotten up to take a piss. It was about 1:30AM. I heard some screaming/screeching/bawling noise I've never heard before in my life. I knew in my gut it was the cat and kinda made peace with him dying that night. In the morning I went to the back door with his food and he wasn't there. Went around to the side of the house and saw him laying dead. No sign of any trauma or injury so I'm wondering how the fukk he just died like that.
The week before I had bought some hay from Home Depot to insulate his house for the winter.
I didn't even bother naming him cause I knew he wouldn't have been around long.
He and I had a good year and a half run, which was much longer than I expected. I'd like to think I made his short and tough life a little bit easier.