Farewell to Scooby
We have not seen the cat, Scooby, since Friday.
Those who knew him, feared him. He was a hunter, a killer, and hard as a coffin nail. To pick him up was to risk your flesh.
Still, I miss the little fucker. Following me and the dog, on a morning walk. Hanging about as I mowed the lawn. Passed out in the office, after a hard night out. Paw up over his eyes, swear to Christ, looking for all the world like he was hung over.
Curious to a fault, he could have climbed into a car, and been wisked away. He could have just picked up and moved on, I suppose. Maybe a fox got him. No way another cat took him out.
So, this one is for Scooby. Pour a sip on the concrete for the deceased, but no don’t weep. Hope it was quick & painless, old buddy.
RIP Scooby - LBOR
