He Disappeared into the Night

This morning we awoke to discover our little furry friend of almost sixteen, affectionately named Squeaker, had disappeared sometime before everyone retired to bed.

We searched the yard, checked his usual haunts, and followed his previous pattern of trekking up the hill to our old street but sadly to no avail. The little fella slowed down considerably over the last several years, and this, unfortunately, was likely has way of telling us he had reached the end of the line.

Although I don’t think the loss has sunk in yet, we already miss him being constantly being under-foot — and his frequent meows and excellent rat hunting skills. The neighborhood birds are probably singing a sigh of relief though.

RIP Squeaker, wherever you are xo