Remembering Akbar

My black kitty, Akbar, has been gone for almost a year now. He lived to be almost 18 years old.(That's 88 in human years, according to one of my books.) I would like to remember him as he was when he was alive and healthy. So here are some drawings from my sketchbook.

Akbar always wanted to be petted and preferred to be within a few feet of me 90% of the time.

He hated it if I closed the door to a room and he couldn't get in.

Sometimes he would protest out in the hallway...

...until I finally opened the door.

He liked to sleep in or next to my bed at night. Sometimes he fell asleep draped over me like a little fur blanket.

If he was in another room and I called his name in a high-pitched voice, he would appear approximately ten seconds later.

What a nice kitty! Whoever decided cats are "aloof" clearly never met one like Akbar.