January 1, 1753
You came into our lives one day unexpectedly and left us suddenly too soon. We are thankful for the four and a half years of joy and laughter you brought to us. You were one of a kind. You would frustrate mom by coming home with your black and white fur covered in dirt from head to tail. Mom would put you in the tub and you’d voice your disappointment of being bathed. You always wanted to play with Miss Kitty, ten years your senior, but were always met with hisses and growls. The way you’d sneak up on the table and coyly lay down across the laptop while someone was using it, as if demanding attention, still brings a smile to us. While we lived in town, you strutted up and down Concan Street as if you owned it and everyone loved you. We remember the time four young girls knocked on our door and one asked, “Is this where Mr. Tiggs lives?” Another day, dad was washing the car in the drive and you were lying nearby. A car stopped and a girl inquired, “Mr. Tiggs, is this where you live?” We moved to the country and your days of outdoor adventures came to an end, but you seemed happy inside the house. You’d help mom put on her make-up almost every morning, sitting on the counter watching. You’d make sure dad was up, often before the alarm sounded, by pulsating your paws on him and touching your cold nose to his while purring. After accomplishing your objective, you’d race into the bathroom and jump on the counter so dad would turn on the water for your morning drink. After the German Shepherd arrived, you had the audacity to ambush and chase her daily. Speaking of ambushing, we remember how you’d hide behind a door or in the laundry basket and swipe at us when we’d pass; then give us that silly look as if to say, “What?” when we’d look down upon your hiding spot. Your many facial expressions personified you; especially when you were terrorizing us, Kitty, the dog or a shoe. Why you left without warning, we’ll never know. You left while in mom’s arms and with us around you, knowing it was too late to get you to a vet, weeping in disbelief. Your memories and photos will always be with us and we’ll laugh at things you did. Will miss you most at Christmas, even though there were countless broken ornaments you batted off the tree and your playful routine of jumping through the wrapping paper and hiding in open boxes, swiping at us as we started to pick up afterwards. There will never be another cat like you, Mr. Tiggs. We thank God for your time with us, bringing joy, love and a few frustrations. Your time was short, but unforgettable. We love and miss you very much, but know we’ll see you again.
Love, Dad, Mom, Evan & Emma, Miss Kitty and Fergie
All Paws Great and Small Crematory
5611 E. Houston St.
San Antonio, TX