Sunny's Legacy

I've spoken before of how Sunny is the inspiration for many things in my stories, most notably the species known as fire cats. Today I tried to examine all that Sunny has left me. It's more than just his empty faded collar and an old turquoise bowl that some excited childish former nine-year old self wrote his name on with a sharpie pen. It's far deeper than his sweet ashes or the box that now contains them and it's as sacred to me as the Lake Lot.

Sunny taught me how to love. He taught me to be gentle and to greet my loves with affection. Sunny was always forever inclined to walk up along side me and twist his big soft wonderful tail around my leg, his version of a hug. Science would call this scent marking, but to me it will always be more than that. As I called Sunny my cat with words and hugs and cuddles and his name, Sunny called me his with the brush of his tail, his purr and the glint in his soft green eyes. He told me he loved me every time he saw me and together we celebrated eating, asking when supper was ready in almost exactly the same way, him with meowing, me with questions. We hung out in the garden together. I chased him. He knew I was never serious. We ran and played and once in a while, if I annoyed him he would nip, but never hard. Sunny was a good cat and he taught me good cat values, like how to love.

I loved and still love Sunny with every fierce nuance of my soul. It's extremely hard to believe that he is gone now, that I'll never physically see him again, but that is how things are, whether I like it or not. Whether or not anything ever mystical happens between us, his soul and mine is yet to be answered as a question, but one thing rings true; Sunny lives on. Every time I write a cat in my stories, every time an elven cat stands up for ear rubs and butt scratches from Ykaren on the Vinintakji, that loving animal is Sunny in another form. People make a big deal out of dogs being loyal, but no animal loves as hard as a little domestic mouser cat.

Sunny's gone now but I still have Smokey and I still have Copernicus and maybe, just maybe, in Copernicus there exists a shred of Sunbad the Wonderhamster, out to love again. Sunny's died now and with him has gone a piece of my soul, our bond still intact despite the barrier of death, yet some of his soul still lives in mine and every so often, whenever I write a cat, that piece of him comes out to play again, rubbing against my ankle with utter adoration.

The elven cats and the fire cats and all the other as-yet undiscovered and unnamed Rimarian kitties are all him. Sunny was and always will be, the very best cat in the world and my saint of love.

Rest in peace Sunny. I miss you.