Yesterday, the most wonderful cat in the whole world died. Spackle was not our cat but our next-door-neighbors', though he treated us as his extended family. Friends and visitors to the studio alike would be greeted by his big friendly fluffiness, sitting on our steps like he owned the place - he'd always greet people with a big meow and would sometimes walk them to the door.

He loved Paul (and it was mutual)! He used to meow outside the door until Paul would come out and play with him. Paul even wrote a song in his piano series called "Meow" that was Spackle-inspired, sort of a call and response song. My illustration had a split screen with a cat on the phone calling up a boy who looked like the way I was doodling Paul at the time. Our neighbor's daughter, who takes lessons from Paul, knew who it was right away.

I have looked for Spackle outside on the porch at least 15 times, even though I know he's gone. I know this sounds ridiculous because he wasn't even our cat, but he was a wonderful part of our lives for almost 10 years. He lived a long, full, happy life (17+ years) with a wonderful family (and us!) who loved him very, very much.

We're still deciding whether or not to tell the kids - whether it's a good lesson on death or if they're truly too young to understand yet. So we're doing more research. Whatever we tell them, it will be the truth; that much I know.

Goodbye, Spackle-cat - nobody will ever be able to fill your fluffy place in our hearts. Go say meow to God for us.