Farewell, Leo

We've a bit of sad news to report today. Our handsome mackeral tabby boy Leo, the feline patriarch of our household, passed away peacefully Sunday night in his warm bed and in the company of his family.

Over the past few months, we could see that his old age (we believe he was 16 years old) was slowly catching up to him, although he never allowed that to prevent him from being the same wonderful and loving companion that he'd always been, both to us and to his Havana Brown housemates. All our HB kittens appreciated having "Uncle Leo" to mentor them, play with them, and pile on top of / next to for naps.

Back in the 1990's, when LeAnn and I first started working together at IBM in Boulder, I would regularly overhear LeAnn telling our co-worker Liz stories about her newly-adopted Boulder Shelter cat that always seemed to start with, "guess what Leo did last night...!" Leo was always getting into mischief as a youngster, whether it was tipping over newly-watered houseplant pots so the wet dirt spilled all over the beige carpet, jumping up onto the dresser top and one by one pushing coins across the top with his paw to the edge of the dresser and watching them fall to the floor ("testing gravity", we called it), or his favorite 3am trick, jumping up and swatting LeAnn's siamese Samantha as she slept in LeAnn's arm then running away as Sammy shrieked loudly! When LeAnn and I started dating, Leo would "attack" my overhanging feet from the end of her bed.

LeAnn tried to use "time out's" to encourage better behavior in the cat. She would announce "time out, Leo!" as she scooped him up in her arms and carried him into the powder room and shut the door. After about 10 minutes, she'd open the door and ask him, "So, are you ready to behave now?". Leo would simply look up at her, swishing his tail defiantly, and say "Myaaah!" as he slowly strolled out of the bathroom, already thinking up his next mischievous plan.

As Leo grew older, he mellowed out and didn't get into a lot of mischief. Oh, he'd still test gravity occasionally, but he became very affectionate and was a great "bed buddy", coming to see us at bedtime for pets and snuggling, then settling down for the night between my legs. I got into the habit, when I wanted to turn to sleep in another position, of first pulling my legs upward, turning, then extending my legs back out, so that I wouldn't disturb him as he slept. In the morning, Leo was always up by our heads, purring "Good Morning" to us, walking across the pillows, cleaning our foreheads and faces with his rough tongue, and giving us affectionate forehead-butts (just like hockey players after a game - I think they got the idea from cats!).

When we lived in Colorado, Leo especially enjoyed helping LeAnn with gardening, rolling around in the dirt among the herb plants and chasing bugs. Even after we moved to Italy, he loved to lounge on the outdoor terrace in the sunshine, and to hear the sounds and smell the smells of our neighborhood here in Mestrino. If there was a sunny patch on the floor or carpet, that's where you'd find him, warming his furry tummy. Calling to him with a cheerful "Leeeoo Kitty!" would be met with his squinty contented cat eyes and his best 'hello' yawn.

When LeAnn's Grandma Margie lived with us in Colorado for the last year of her life, Leo took to her and he became 'Grandma's Kitty', even sleeping guard on her bed after she had left us. Now it appears that Leo has gone to be with Grandma Margie, and I can't think of a more faithful companion to have.

We miss you, handsome boy. Thanks for all the wonderful memories.