remembering otter
On January 11th, 2026, I lost a very good friend of mine. His name was Otter, and he was just under three years old. In the time I spent with that little guy, I learned so much. I never knew cats could be so loving.
This little man followed me everywhere and spent a lot of his time observing the surely incomprehensible things I would do. He didn’t care why I was beating my fingers on some machine in a rhythmic pattern, or why I’d spend so much time in the kitchen without giving him a treat. He just wanted to be with me.
My wife and I learned today that our camera rolls are more or less composed primarily of photos of him. If this wonderful little guy could have understood what that meant, I’m sure he’d be pleased with himself.
He was a menace I tell you. His passing comes shortly after the holiday season, which he vehemently hated. That Christmas tree in our dining room was his number one enemy. Again, if he knew what it represented, he’d have probably chilled out a bit.
Sure, he was probably evil. In fact, he stole from me every chance he could. Every word out of his mouth was a lie. He was also a brutal murderer (of crickets) but he was also a very loving little boy and I miss him terribly.
I must say, before I brought this guy home, I never imagined I’d be friends with a cat. I saw myself as his owner, protector, and loving well wisher. Never his friend because I didn’t think he, as a cat, would let me. I was wrong in the most wonderful way you can imagine.
He couldn’t read, he couldn’t speak, and try as he might, he had no say in how our household was run. What he could do is show me what unconditional loyalty is. He was a better friend to me than any animal ever has been before. In fact, most humans couldn’t even live up to that boy.
His memory was always going to outlive his body. That’s true for all of us. But what I think about more than anything is that he’ll be a shining example of what a cat is to my daughter. She’ll hold every subsequent cat up to the standards of that sweet little man. My wife, myself, and everyone else that met him can probably say the same.
Our time together was brief. He lived in our home from kittenhood. However, he also never knew pain, sadness, or fear. His only concerns were stealing, eating, and finding someone to spend his time with and love on. He greatly enjoyed being brushed, often going so far as demanding it from me. I never minded, because he seemed thrilled with it. He’d paw at me when it was over to get more. These are the things that I’ll miss the most.
Here’s to you, Ootle kabootle. You little asshole. I’ll always remember and love you.
