Jasper

This sweet, crazy cat now sleeps forever. While I was at the cottage, Griff called to tell me that Jasper was dead. The dogs weren't home to keep critters out of the yard, though they might not have made a difference even if they had been around. Annie tends to stay in the house and William spends more time in the front yard than in the back by the woods. From the fur that still clings to the grass, Jasper, 22 pounds of solid cat, was attacked near the back of the house. He was then carried to the edge of the back lawn and eaten. Only fur and entrails are left to tell the tale. At least we know he isn't sick or injured somewhere in the woods. 

Jasper was the official greeter, meeting us as we got out of our cars. If I took a walk down the road, Jasper followed along. If I went further than he wanted to go, he'd yowl at me until I turned around and headed home. At my desk, his tail would drape itself over my keyboard. If I sat down to read in my stuffed chair, Jasper would balance on the chair arm to keep me company. Just because Griff's rooms are on the second floor ("first" floor in France) and we have a door at the top of the inside stairs to keep the pets downstairs, Jasper wasn't going to be kept away from Griff. He'd climb the outside stairs to Griff's deck and scratch on the window to be let in up there. Jasper ruled the house.    We miss him.