Asa was crazy about cats, in fact professed to have been raised by one. I think of all the cats we've had over the course of our marriage, Bubba stands out as his possible closest feline friend. We really didn't need another cat when Bubba was brought home one evening by our son, Lance, who found him playing among the river rats on a rip-rap bank on the California Delta, near us. We had two cats already, Shannon and Arthur (a white female). While I cuddled him, Asa took one look at Bubba, and in his manliest voice said that we had three days to find him a home. I smiled within, because I knew exactly what was going to happen. Sure enough, two days later, Asa was walking around the kitchen with Bubba draped around his neck, purring and kneading madly. "Friendly little guy, isn't he," he said with a sheepish grin, and Bubba's future was sealed
Although we all adored Bubba, he was Asa's cat. They had a daily routine. As soon as Asa's car came down our street, Bubba raced to the utility room. When Asa came through the door, Bubba would hurl himself in the air, land on Asa's chest, then curl around his shoulders. Asa would walk around the house like that, while they told each other about their day.
Bubba was 17 when Asa was diagnosed with cancer in January of 2005. By early December, Bubba decided it was time to go. Asa joined him and many of other other cats at the Rainbow Bridge on May 3, 2008, and I know they're having a great time there, catching up on old times.