Shadow came to us through the owner of an occult bookstore called Pandora’s box. That bookstore was my first introduction to magic and witchcraft, and I went over several times a week to browse and play with the kittens as they grew up.
My son Ian had just lost his three-legged pal, Dennis the Menace, who was killed by a feral cat. He wanted another kitty, so I took him over to meet the litter at the bookstore when they were ready for adoption.
He picked out Shadow, and we named him Shadow Moon because we adopted him on the day of a full lunar eclipse.
Shadow loved us all, but you’ve heard the saying that cats pick their owners? He became my best friend, familiar, and writing companion.
He was a bully, demanding attention by pulling down my newspaper with a paw so I couldn’t read.
At 5:00am, he’d walk across Paul’s face to tell him it was time to get up and feed him.
But he would always come to us, even if he was outside. All we had to do was whistle ‘Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay.’ Even in Shadow’s last days, Paul could get him to raise his head by whistling his song.
I featured Shadow and his daddy Magic in my first book, Song of the Ancients. They were so much fun to write, and I’ll miss them.
If you have a moment this week, please wish Shadow Moon a peaceful crossing and a long, restful nap in his next life. What is remembered, lives. We will remember you always, and love you forever, my dark prince.