Well, the last of "The Original Three" has moved on to bigger and better things you might say. This past September 17, 2011, my remaining best friend, Onyx died. I still don't know exactly why, but he hadn't been feeling too well right before his passing. He had been dry heaving, losing weight, meowing like crazy, but still in good spirits. I guess that's what Onyx was all about - Good spirits. He always seemed to be happy and mischievous. He was the only cat I got from a pet store. I don't support pet stores and would rather adopt from a shelter. This one particular day, I walked into a pet store and saw an all black kitten. I couldn't help but notice that he was staring at me with his bright gold eyes... I asked the attendant to bring him to me for a closer look. Well, it was instant love... from both to each other. He started licking my nose right away. That was something he did everytime I held him or laid down to where he could climb up on me and do it again... He was always loving, yet up to something. This little guy never got up to 10lbs., but was giant in stature and generosity. Everyday I had him, he showed love. He was a great friend and companion to me, Gatsby, Milo Sr., Milo Jr., and even later on, Marble and Mackenzie. Over the years, he became a well-traveled little cat. Moving from Wisconsin to Texas, then from apartment to apartment. He was a great source of strength through my divorce and put up with the girlfriend that followed and all her psycho stuff... lol... Middle of 2010, he began losing weight for whatever reason. He ate like he always did... part horse? His attitude and great moods never changed. He was ALWAYS loving and in a great, cuddly mood. Like I mentioned above, he tolerated my psycho ex-girlfriend. She even threw him outside in January of 2011! Nice and cold outside. He was gone for 10 days. Some of the hardest days in my life. I kept a vigil for him, never stopping the looking and calling. I tried endless treat taunts that usually worked indoors. Now, I thought he was done for. Low and behold, one day I'm out in the back yard with Mackenzie, the half-pit we had, and the neighbor yells for me to look under the house. I saw a flash of black hopping and juking through the stuff under it. Not sure, I ran to the front and pulled skirting off. I had his treats with me (as always-just in case) to taunt with again. Sure enough! It was him! He came close enough, ate a couple treats and I picked him up. He had not a scratch on him. Even through the rainy, cold weather, he seemed pretty dry and warm. Resourceful, I guess. That was close! Shortly after, I asked my great friend Melanie and her husband Ed to keep him for a period of time. They gladly agreed. Thanks to them, he was to be safe from "her" for the rest of his life. Well, mid summer, 2011, she got nutso again and decided that I wasn't good enough for her and threw me out for someone who would buy her things. He moved in, got rid of Mackenzie... my half-pit and a couple weeks later, she threatened to throw out Milo, Jr. and Marble... Onyx's brother and sister. Nice, huh? Those two ended up in a no-kill shelter, safe from her but away from me. Onyx was still with Melanie and Ed, thankfully. A couple months later, I moved in with an old friend from high school and he allowed me to have Onyx with me. Melanie called me to ask me to take him... what great timing! I went and picked up my little buddy. A month or so of non-stop love, playing, sneaking food, cuddling, nose-licking and all-around good times. Every day I would have to rub his head, scratch his neck, do the "smooshy face", and sneak him some cheese. Not a problem whatsoever. Every night, he would give it all back with his fantastic snuggling at bedtime. Then one f'd up day, I end up in the hospital with Diabetic Ketoacidosis. If you don't know what that is, it is a situation involving extremely high blood-glucose in diabetics. It can and sometimes does prove fatal. In my case, it did prove fatal for about 4 minutes. This was on September 16, 2011. I was there until the afternoon of September 17th. Upon finally making it home, I kept looking for Onyx... calling his name, shaking the treats, pretending to make a sandwich to lure him... the things he would come running for... not a sign of him. I looked outside, to no avail. Mike got home and I asked him. He said Onyx had been sleeping under his bed once in awhile. We checked and there he was. He looked so peaceful and relaxed. But I knew... there would be no more nose licks. No more cuddles. No more goofy meows. My little buddy was gone. 15 and a half years ended that day. It was supposed to be me and maybe he knew something... I still get choked up thinking of that. Maybe he knew and wouldn't be without me. He was old, maybe diabetic as well, and probably tired. My little guy left in his sleep, it appeared. The last of "The Original Three"... my gang of crazy ass cats... Now, he gets to be with his brothers, Gatsby and Milo, Sr. I'm never going to forget you, Onyx. I love ya buddy.