I've had Rochester since he was a four week old kitten, rescued from an abusive home.
This afternoon, he died.
Here are some pictures (in approximate chronological order):
He was tiny and I was skinny... That was a long time ago.
You'd look startled too, if you'd been shoved in a small, pink pyramid.
I'm not eating that crap.
Isn't this the single cutest picture you've ever seen? That's Elliot spooning Rochester.
King of the castle.
This is a pretty excellent impression of Darth Vader.
What the hell? No beard!!!
Food?
Dad, you're a creepy sod.
I'm in your bed. What are you gonna do about it?
Rochester's a handsome chap.
Why? Why would you photograph me when I'm trying to sleep? Paparazzi.
Not so skinny now, are you? I can sit on that shelf you call a belly.
I have a sinking feeling.
I miss him...
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