At the ripe young age of 21 years, my cat Picasso, has finally passed. He was often called Pica because of his sharp teeth that reminded my father of the Puerto Rican pica-pica vines and bushes. He was preceded by the death of his brother Louie by about five years. We got Pica in 1992 and later adopted his brother from the same litter when my Grandmom Deezy came to live with us. He transcended many of the different eras of my life, from my college days, to my bar tending days, all the way to the present. He lived large, often giving Garfield a run for his money on the scale and living the party life of Bill the Cat. I am pretty sure that some of the girls I dated in college stayed with me just because of Pica's cuteness. Even when he would do something mischievous, like biting my roommates toes because Eric's restless leg made it look like a rodent was under the blanket as he slept, Pica's cuteness would make it impossible to stay mad at him. He lived a long and good life and was well loved and will be missed by most. You, being allergic, will be better off without a cat at your grandparent's house. Also your Grandma Ro and your mom were not the biggest fans of Pica in the last couple years. But to your father, he was a companion and friend and though I will miss him it was his time. Your Grandpa Leo held him through the night to keep him warm (they had lost power at their house) and spent the last day of Pica's life letting him know he was loved and not alone.
Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo
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