R.I.P. Pedro Tortilla

So a few months ago I was chatting with my father on my cellyphono and he says in passing, "Oh yeah, I don't think I've seen your cat in the last few months. I am guessin' he's dead." WHAT??? My Perdro Tortilla is dead? Gone? After like 11 years of sharing my Spanish fried rice with him? I was so sad. But how can you really grieve when he's been gone already for months. My heart hurt that I was never able to make it to a house where I could keep him. He had to die alone, outside, in the cold Nebraska winter.

My cat is amazing. He was the first born of his litter,  and when he was born tail first, I knew he had to be mine. Since he was the first we started to call him "Uno." When mom......and dad consented to let me keep him I decided to keep it Spanish and called him Pedro. Then I would call him "Perdro my little Tortilla." Somehow "Tortilla" just stuck, and that was his name. Well until my dad called him by his Jewish name "Peter Flatbread" or Mom would call him "Tortellini." However whenever I needed him I would just go out and call his name and he would come bounding in from the field. He hearted me so much. Even after I left for college and would be gone for a year at a time, he would still recognize my voice and maul me to death whenever I would visit home. Now he is gone, and my heart is sad. I hope that he never thought I had neglected him or didn't love him anymore. So! Here's to you Pedro Tortilla Chiquita Maria, for being such a good sport. My mommy will for sure take good care of you till I see you again. Love you!