Atlas started life as a stray kitten, rescued starving in an alley. He was a gift to me in college at a time when my life felt like it was falling apart, and I named him Atlas because at the time he carried the weight of my world on his tiny shoulders. He was my first pet ever, but he handled my learning curve with cat-like patience. I learned patience as well, as his favorite spot to lie down seemed to be whatever textbook I tried to study from. His love of paper would continue for the rest of his life.
Atlas was a lap cat and an athlete, a champion purr-er who came running when called, and he never met a stranger. You might say he broke down every negative cat stereotype. He was a clever escape artist who would hide in the most unlikely places and make an unsuspecting dash for the door when you came home, but only so he could sit in the grass outside. He once scaled a refrigerator and removed a drop ceiling tile to make his escape, only to crash through the kitchen ceiling.
His greatest legacy is that he led directly to the adoption of 6 cats by people who never considered having a cat. Around age 9, his liver began to fail. I tried everything medically possible to save him, and when the time came, we let him lie outside in the grass to hear the birds, see the squirrels, and sniff the spring breeze. That night he eased one final hardship by passing away in our arms, because he knew the next morning the doctor was coming to take him from us. People still talk about him 3 years later, and I still miss him.
Midlothian, VA
