Diablo
Diablo was a laid-back guy who came into my life as a tiny ball of fuzz in the palm of my hand. Over the years, he survived losing a litter mate, a mystery disappearance of several weeks, two dogs, diabetes - and twice-daily insulin shots - a colon operation and thyroid disease.
Through it all, he remained a friendly and affectionate guy, although he was always up for mischief, too (hence the name). He was the type of cat who even admitted "dog persons" and cat haters couldn't resist - always going in for a chin scratch or a belly rub despite their own protests that, "I don't really like cats."
Diablo ate it all up, of course - never one to turn down affection, food, or sleep.
He was so friendly that the vet techs were always amazed at his good humor through all sorts of tests - even a colon operation. He would purr and roll around for a rub, sometimes even get sleepy during exams.
This is a picture of him in his favorite spot in the back yard, under the lilac bush. He was an outdoor cat when he was younger, but after he became an indoor cat I would let him out sometimes. He never tried to run away, he would just explore the back yard, then lazily settle down in the grass somewhere until it was time to come in.
His brother is lonely without him, and without a big, orange furball curled up somewhere the house just isn't the same.
