Some of you may have known my cat. I liked to talk about him. He was peculiar, even for a cat. Two summers ago he showed up on an old stump in the woods. Meowing. Wouldn't stop meowing, the damn thing.

I'm not a cat person, but I've owned a couple, and still own two cats. Every cat I've ever had was because of a woman. The first one was from my aunt. I taught him to attack, using a hand signal. My other cats were all just fine. They didn't pee on the rugs, they didn't cry all the time. Then I met my friend, Mookie. The orange cat. Mookie is my favorite, along with the two that are with me right now.

Mookie was an outside cat, let's get this straight. He slept in our house at night, and during the day he hung out on our porch or in the corn field. He liked to catch mice. He even caught a rabbit or two. Someone once complained to me about cats catching rabbits, shortly after they complained about rabbits eating their lettuce.

His weirdness wasn't always apparent. You had to know this cat. For one, he was gigantic. Even his size was misleading until you saw him stand next to another cat, or even my dog. He looked like a young orange bobcat, if you could imagine that. It's probably what got him shot the first time, and it might be why he's gone now. He was so big, that when he walked down our hallway it sounded like a person was sneaking around. Startled me more than once.

And then there was the bullet. So close to his spine, he was temporarily and partially paralyzed. He drug himself home through hundreds of yards of field. Muddy and wet, he found his way to our porch. I can't imagine what that cat went through to get home. I could, but I don't want to.

He's been missing now for three or four weeks. I'd like to think a friendly neighbor took him in for the winter. He was hard to control, and traveled a bit. If he bothered you, I'm sorry.

I didn't pet Mookie too much. We sorta had this understanding. He catches the mice. I get rid of his worms. He keeps the squirrels outta the bird feeder. I take him to the vet when some redneck with coon traps behind his crappy little trailer shoots him.

Hey Mookie, wherever you are, thanks. I'm glad I knew you.