His name was Fidget. He had taken to sitting in the bathroom all day. Last year or so he would climb up on the sink while I was sitting on the toilet, and sneeze in my face. Once he tried to get pets while I was peeing, put his front paws on the bowl and while shooing him I accidentally peed on his face, for the next three weeks he hissed every time I went to pee.

I'm not sure how I feel. We don't know how old he was, but I'm guessing close to 20. I knew he had very few days left for years. I'm sad, but not inconsolable. He had a super good run, and passed in a loving household. 

But I've gotten flashes all day when I just want to cry. I have two other cats. One we adopted when my sisters friend died, so we took in her cats, and that's who Fidget's first human was. So I think the other (Pumpkin) is just as old. The third is named Daryl (originally Dimebag) because she was born the same day her guitar player namesake died. In 2004. So now I'm also freaking out because my cats are old, and I... don't know how to write how I feel about that. If you've read this far sorry. I'm on not my first beer, and I'm freaking out. I'm not an easy person to live with. I can come off as cold, or uncaring, or self absorbed. I just hope Fidget knew he was loved. That the head scratches after I washed my hands conveyed that. I'm going to just stop there. RIP Fidget ???-2021.