Rocky was my baby, he was 1 1/2yrs old and was a gray tabby. He has a brother the same age named Bullwinkle, he's an orange tabby. We had Rocky and his brother since they were 8wks old.
Rocky was our little squeaker, he couldn't get out a meow, he just squeaked. He followed me everywhere, even to the bathroom! When I would get up, even if he was sleeping he would perk up, see that I was going up the stairs and he went too, sometimes he would race me and hide between the toilet and cabinet other times he would go step by step and wait for me.
He always slept with me either in bed or next to me in the living room, hardly ever anywhere else. He would make this little sound that almost sounded like he was asking a question, then he would jump up on me, message, headbutt me a few times then cuddle up and fall asleep.
Everyday and anytime of day he did this (until he got sick). When I would be in the kitchen cooking he would be right there watching and give me this look as if to say "Whatcha' cookin', can I have some?". He was the good one while his brother was the troublemaker. Sometimes when his brother would get into one of his crazy moods Rocky would just look at him as if to say "What is wrong with you!?"
It has only been 2 days since he's been gone and it still hurts bad. I keep picturing him walking out of the kitchen wanting to know where I am, finding me and then doing his thing before he gets comfy to go to sleep.
If you knew him you would instantly fall in love with him, he just had this thing to him that I can't explain. Rocky was given tons of love, and still will, he will be greatly missed. He is my Furry Angel Baby with wings.
I love you baby,