Mystic has been a part of my family for over half my life. When I was 15 and my sister was 14, we were at a community picnic when a tiny solid black kitten appeared demanding some of our lunch. We asked everyone at the picnic if they owned him. No one claimed him but one man said he'd "take care of it." Knowing that did not mean give him a good home, we came up with our plan. My sister has always been braver than me. I distracted our parents while Trish stole their car and drove the kitten to our house! We got in some serious trouble for that stunt, but the kitten got to stay!
He grew into a 15 pound black beauty. Affectionate, friendly, and a permanent part of our family. We lived in the boonies and Mystic was allowed outside. He lived a life full of adventure, which wasn't always a goof thing! He spent a week locked in a neighbor's travel trailer, got beat up by a duck and hunted the local squirrels into extinction.
When we left home, Mystic moved with Trish. He was with her through the suicide of her first love; her marriage; the birth of her children; multiple moves and most recently through a bitter divorce. The one constant in her world has always been Mystic. He adapted to change like no cat I've ever known. Nothing phased Mystic. He took everything in stride.
Recently Mystic started to loose weight and developed several ominous lumps on his sides. He was 18 and had cancer. No treatment options would have helped. He was allowed to live in luxury for as long as he was comfortable. Yesterday, he lost control of his bowels and suddenly went blind. The time had come.
Godspeed, ol' boy. You will be terribly missed. You were something else and the Mystic sized hole in our family will never be filled.
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