We'll sing in the sunshine, we'll laugh everyday

 I first saw him (and Missy Tee and Calzini) when they were about two months old.  Imp stuck his head up from the grasses down the passaggiata...then Zini, then Tee.  Three adorable kittens.

Not long after that, they began coming to our door for food.  Their mother taught them where to go to find sustenance.  Imp was a loudmouth.  As soon as I stepped outside he started wailing and tried to climb up my legs!  Calm down, little fella!!!  The food is coming!

Imp, who was known as "Demon" at that time, refused to be handled.  He was wild and he intended to stay that way.  All was fine for the summer and fall.  Winter, however, posed challenges.

Besides the bad weather, there was also a very large male roaming around terrorizing various enclaves of feral to semi-feral cats.

One January night, cold and rainy, that miserable male was out there and so were the nicer cats.  I urged them to come into the cortile for some food, and Imp followed.  When they were done, they left one by one, but Imp stayed.  He was huddled in a corner, as if he didn't want to be noticed and he certainly didn't want to go back out in the freezing rain. 

We brought him in.  He was tiny for his age, nearly half the size of his siblings.  I honestly didn't think he would live through the night.  But there he was in the morning, and he allowed us to pet him, handle him, take him to the vet, feed and medicate him.

With time, he got immensely better and began strutting around.  We called him "Imp" instead of "Demon."  Little Imp had severe asthma and likely other problems, too.  He worked very hard to breathe.  Yet, he was happy.  He played a little, but knew enough to stop and rest.  He slept, usually, sitting up to facilitate his breathing.  He was affectionate and feisty.  He grew and gained weight and became a handsome little devil.

I often thought that his conditions (he also had recurrent UTIs) would shorten his lifespan, but he was doing so well and was clearly so happy.  He spent time in my lap.  He played with his sibs.  He hung out in the windows enjoying the birds and sunshine.  He looked so good and was so happy, I thought he had years ahead of him.

Impy died yesterday.  It came on, or seemed to come on, suddenly.  But I know he was very ill from day one.  He started to "hang out" in the hallway, rather than on the couch in the living room.  The next day he retreated to our bedroom.  He had great difficulty breathing and stopped eating.  Yes, we tried to medicate him.  Yes, we used the inhaler.  We did everything but take him to the vet because he was so suddenly weak and also because the vet was sick, possibly with Covid.  We did everything we could to make him...better....to make him comfortable and let him know he was loved.

Just shy of his third birthday, we lost him.  My sweet, courageous little Imp.  He could have had a lung collapse.  I know his heart was working far too hard...and that is how it ended.  He was on our bed, resting and we were with him.  He cried out, LOUD.  And he was gone.  

Even though I knew every day was a gift, nevertheless, this is hard and it hurts. We loved you, Imp.  I think he knew that.  I'm sure he did.