On the evening of November 24, 2008, our cat, Escupito, passed away. In my life I have known and loved a number of pets, and a few have been great friends, but the best friend of them all was Pito. This is the speaking of his life.

For me, his story began when his grandmother joined our family 12 years ago.I was 16 years old and living in Woodbury, Tennessee when my step-brother John came to live with us. With him came a cat. This cat had a name before she lived with us, but we all called her "John's cat" or just "that cat." One night, I woke up and she was licking my head. I misunderstood her attempt at affection, so I started calling her Escupe (the Spanish word for spit). This cruel joke eventually lost its meaning as we grew accustomed to and accepted her. She never became a beloved member of our household, because she was wild and skittish, but when she had a litter of kittens, we kept one and named her Escupita. Escupita was my mom's kitty and  Escupito's mother. Later Escupita had a litter of her own. My family's love for silliness meant that we called the whole litter "the Escupita-itos" (or "Los Ita-itos" for short). Soon all but two of the Ita-itos had new homes. These two male kittens were sweet and grew up together. Then one day, one disappeared and only one remained. This kitty was eventually known simply as Escupito.

Escupito lived the Golden Rule. He was never mean, never snappy, never bit, and if he scratched, it was by accident. At first, I was not  sure I liked him, but as I got to know him, I found that he loved anyone who got to know him -- and anyone who got to know him could not help but love him back. Dottie, my sister's Jack Russell Terrier, would groom Escupito, because he found she enjoyed to be groomed first. They would often lie down on the couch and cuddle up together in the light of the warm afternoon sun. Since I was away at school, I only saw him intermittently for a few years, but shortly after Aneta and I were married, we came to live with my mom for six months. Aneta had just come from Poland and was not comfortable with English on a daily basis, but Escupito never cared. It was during this time that Aneta took to calling him Pito and it stuck. They became close friends.

When we got a place of our own, we still came to visit my Mom every week, and when we walked in, we would say, "Hello Pito!" He would respond with the most musical meow, and it sounded as if he was saying, "I am so glad to see you!"  We soon moved to New York, and Pito stayed behind in Tennessee. A year later, my mom asked me if we wanted to take Pito to live with us in Brooklyn, and we were glad to have him become a permanent member of our family.

In New York, Pito met many of our friends, and none of them could resist his charm. Sometimes it seemed like Jannine came over to hang out with Escupito rather than us. At first, our New York cat, Lusia, hissed at him every chance she got, but we knew this was normal and knew that, in time, she would grow to tolerate him. I remember very clearly the day she stopped hissing at him. She ran up to him hissing, and he lifted up his paw and whacked her on the top of her head. It didn't hurt her, but Aneta and I laughed at how deftly he had routed her attack, and she stopped hissing. In a few weeks, it was common to see them grooming each other or snuggled up asleep.

When we decided to move to Poland, there was no doubt in our minds that Lusia and Pito were coming with us. We also decided that Aneta and Lusia would go to Poland to find an apartment a month before me and Pito. We had taken our things down to Tennessee to store in my old bedroom, so Pito and I were all alone in Woodbury once again. Each day, he was my constant companion, and as I worked he would curl up in my lap. When we finally arrived in Poland, I settled into my new schedule of working from home. Most days I primarily interacted with Aneta, Lusia, and Escupito. Each day, he was a constant source of happiness and joy.

While his death is a source of awful sadness for both Aneta and me (as we have both known Pito's love at our loneliest), we count ourselves lucky to have known and felt the happiness he brought to our lives.

* All images in this article are Copyright Aneta Tarasiuk-Rusek 2008