June: Fill & Download for Free

Yes, they do. I moved to my current house four and a half years ago. Three months after I moved, the lady across the street from me passed away in hospital. I didn't know her. It was the lady who lives next door to me who told me. She had been a friend of the woman who passed away and she knew the woman’s 12 year old cat quite well. Because they were friends, I assumed that my neighbour had re-homed the deceased lady’s cat as the cat was always ‘around’.Moving on two and a half years, I was chatting with my neighbour one day and asked her how the cat was doing. She seemed to be surprised and said she didn't know. It turned out that neither she nor anyone else had re-homed him.For two and a half years, this little cat had been scrounging for food, hunting, sleeping outside in all weathers, all the time waiting for his owner to come home. It nearly broke my heart when I found out. I was astonished that he had waited around for so long. There were new people living in ‘his’ home and yet, still he waited.It took six months of coaxing and gentle encouragement (and super tempting food) and Spike now lives with me.There’s a deep sadness within him. I’ve never seen a cat with such sad body language and eyes. He doesn't interact with my other two cats. He likes to spend his time alone, usually in the spare room, only venturing outside to pop across the street to ‘check one more time’.This is Spike…This highlighted for me how much I took for granted that all outdoor cats have somewhere to go. Spike was even wearing a collar during his ‘lost’ years. I so wish I could put some fun or happiness back into his life. I've tried everything I know but his sadness seems to be permanent. At least he won't be alone when his time comes.Update:Thank you to everyone who has commented for your extremely kind words.I have been talking to Spike a lot lately and he is beginning to respond. He has actually become quite vocal which is a huge leap for him. I say things to him like ‘and how are you today Spike’ and ‘dont you want to come downstairs’. He now responds vocally most times I speak to him and its just lovely to see him react.Last week he tentatively decided to come downstairs for the very first time. He was very nervous at first as I have 2 other cats which he always avoids and he only stayed a little while before shooting off upstairs again. Yesterday, however, he felt relaxed enough to do this ….Spike is on the right hand side of this photo. He arrived on the sofa first. My other two arrived one by one. He took a good look at them as they arrived and to my great surprise, he laid his head down again. Normally, he would run off. I am so pleased that he has started to interact. This has taken some time.His eyes also seem to be a little brighter and not quite so forlorn so perhaps he is feeling a little better. See what you think …He does still like to spend the largest part of the day alone but I'm hopeful that inside himself he’s able to feel the love that is coming his way. That includes all you lovely people from Quora too who have said such kind and caring words about him. Thank you again.

The gentleman pictured, my ex, Mike is the person that I, and everyone who knew him would agree was the most badass who ever walked the earth (besides Jesus). He was a quiet man, rarely said a word, but when he did it was usually making people smile or laugh. He did anything for anyone when he saw a need, without asking for anything in return. If he had money in his pocket, he gave it to someone who needed it more than he did. If I asked him, “What happened to the money you made today? He would shrug his shoulders and say, “I dunno, I guess I’m not supposed to wake up in the morning with money in my pocket”. If he saw someone on the curb who looked hungry, he gave that person whatever he was about to eat himself. If he didn’t have food to give that person, he gave them a couple bucks to get food. If someone looked cold, Mike gave them his jacket knowing “His Eye is on the sparrow” and he’d be fine, something would come along for himself when he needed it.Mike was the strongest man we knew. He built, and re-built a koi pond for our friend, he moved two 600 pound boulders by himself without complaint. He was there as a father figure and a friend for my two children and helped me take care of my mother who had Parkinson’s Disease and breast cancer that had made a vengeful return after she “beat it” five years prior. I don’t think I could have kept my promise to my mother to allow her to pass away in her home had it not been for my Mike and his antics. He kept us on our toes in one way or another, mostly in a good way. Every once in a while he would over-step his “mischief boundaries” and get in a bit of hot water with me or my mother and he always knew just what to say or do to make things right when the water got too hot for him.(this is the koi pond, you can see the size of the boulders Mike moved - on the right, they are partially submerged in the pond water)He stepped up when things were bad to make things good. He was a gentle giant - not tall at all, but he seemed like the tallest man we knew because of his character and his strength.When a friend had a party, he was the first one there to help set it up and the last one to leave, until things were cleaned up.When someone called him for help, he didn’t hesitate to be there and do whatever it took to help that person.He was a knight in shining armor to many of us. He was the type who would defend the weak -like stop a bully from picking on them. There was a person in our town who was picking on people that were weaker than himself, even a man in a wheel chair. When Mike got wind of this, he rode his bike to the bar where this guy was drinking and partying. Mike actually rode his bike into the bar, walked up to the bully who was a good foot taller than he, and knocked him out with one punch. The crowd in the bar cheered, and Mike rode off leaving the bully laying on the ground to think about the way he was treating people.Another incident that Mike never told me, but the girl he rescued did. She said she was being attacked by a gang of young men who were raping and about to kill her. Mike happened upon this and immediately, without hesitation, dropped the would-be murderers to the ground with one blow each. After three of the young men were knocked out, the rest ran off, and the girl’s life was saved.Mike was my hero. When we met, he told me he had “nothing to offer” me. I begged to differ. He had no home, no car, and no steady income, but he had more to offer than most men I’ve met who have all those things. He had good character. He was honorable, he had integrity, and he truly thought of others before himself.This is just a small sampling of Mike’s life, there’s so much more to him than just the few things I’ve written here. There will never be enough time to tell you everything about him to make you fully understand the “badass” man that he was.He passed away Dec. 26. The forensics toxicology report shows that someone poisoned him with arsenic, lithium, and a pesticide. He was the strongest man I knew- physically, and that of character, and all it took to take him down was one bitch who was afraid he’d expose her plans take over our friend’s estate. She’s a very bad person, obviously, and she’s still out there somewhere, enjoying her life, and my Mike is gone forever.He lives on in my heart, and his ways still influence mine today. As much as I try, I’ll never be like him, I don’t know anyone who could be.Updated January 30: Some of you asked if this really happened. To show you that I did not make this shit up, here’s a photo of Mike on his birthday February 7, his last one before he passed away on December 26. Pictured with his is his nephew, one of the few people who was a able to visit him in the hospital. Most of his friends didn’t have the stomach to see him like this:

Image source: My phone Gallery, I screenshotted it on June 5, 2020