Punkin, the cat that would allow a very young Kacie to "manhandle" her, up to a point ... and then would invariably bite Kacie somewhere on the nose, the cheek, the chin, wherever she could sink her teeth. Yet for years they remained buddies, and Punkin would spend at least some of each night sleeping with Kacie.
Punkin, the cat who got stuck underneath the garage door (before garage door openers came with mandatory safety sensors). The cat for whom a neighbor came to the door and said "you have a cat pinned underneath your garage door", and when we went to the garage she was completely pinned, almost crushed, and her little feet flailing in an attempt to free herself. We knew then that a cat who could survive that would be a feisty and long-living creature!
Punkin, the cat who slept with Barb every night, either at her feet or on her pillow. (To say Dan didn't like sleeping with a cat is an understatement, and Punkin, after being thrown off the bed a few times in the dark of night, didn't come back to him much at night any more.)
Punkin, who not only perpetuated the eat-puke-eat cycle known to many felines, but took it to legendary frequencies.
Punkin, who would come to your lap just as you were about to get up, and then nestle in with a deep and contented purr.
Punkin, who would not tolerate the presence of our sweet golden retriever, and would give a nasty "hiss" and a bat of her paw to tell Zoey to "get lost"!
Punkin, who would keep Barb company, following her whenever she was outside in the yard and wherever she would go.
Punkin, who would disappear for days at a time, and then would show up like nothing happened. More than once we had found her locked in a neighbor's garage.
Punkin, who in later years, became even more affectionate and loved to paw at our faces to get our attention.
Goodbye Punkin, we will miss you.