Cleo

Cleo was the first cat I had when I moved into town. I don’t remember when I got him. All I remember was that a friend of the family’s, Larry Newbrough found him laying in a ditch and thought I could have him, if it was ok with my mom.
So fortunately, it was ok with her and from then on, he became a part of our family. He was a long-haired cat, so everywhere you looked, there seemed to be cat hair. He wasn’t very social and wasn’t very playful when he got older, but he was my little fur ball. That’s what I always seemed to call him. His favorite place to lay just happened to be under my mom’s bed right at the top in the middle.
But as time progressed, he grew older and older. It got to the point where he would only lay in the same place which was under a big dresser that was upstairs. We later found out that he had something called feline leukemia. I never knew what that exactly was, but either way, it wasn’t good. It was so bad that it looked like his eyes were slowly closing in on him. You could barely see if he could even open his eyes they got that bad. He will be dearly missed.