Peter F*cking Steele
(Victoria, b.c. canada)
This isn't the best pic, but its the only one I could access from my phone. This was his first day home with me.
I lived in a large apartment building surrounded by gardens and bushes, right on the water. I had a job that required me to come and go from home a lot. Every time I drove up, this black cat would come ripping out of the bushes, running towards me at full speed meowing his heart out. When he reached me he would fall onto his back and squiggle around frantically as I pet his belly and talked with him. It got so I would carry treats in my purse for him. He was big and muscular, but underweight and dirty. After about 2 weeks I came downstairs and brought him inside, and on the way back up in the elevator, we ran into a lady who was just coming downstairs to grab him as well. If I had waited 5 minutes I would have missed him forever. At first I was just trying to find his people, but every time someone came to see him, my heart ached and I would pray to whoever that he wasn't theirs. Finally I took him off the market and kept him. He was so snuggly and affectionate to everyone, but me especially. He was my captain of the nap. I named him Peter F*cking Steele after the singer from the band Type 0 Negative, because he shared so many physical characteristics: he was tall, had black hair, green eyes, and nuts that looked like furry fake boobs poking out. Those had to go: he was crazily full of beans and started spraying. I also called him pee-stee, stee, vin steezle, or just steezle, and mancat. He was also known as the black pyjama terrorist. He did tricks, such as: fetching, rolling over, sitting/ lying down, heeling, jumping up to get treats out of your hands with his paws, and catching treats mid-air in acrobatic fashion. He would only do these things for treats, though, he was extremely motivated by food. I guess he never got over his time of scarcity, living outside alone. He could eat all day, and would freak if he saw the bottom of his bowl. He would steal bags of treats out of the cupboard and eat the whole thing, and if I had beef jerky in my bag, he would open it to steal, strip the package and eat it. He was indoor/ outdoor, because he was a total freak if he felt he was being cooped up. He had friends all over the neighborhood, people he would visit every day at a specific time, to soak up the love, and the food. He started to get stressed out and over groom about a year and a half ago, to the point where it looked like he was wearing high-waisted skin leggings. He was naked from the ribs down. I tried everything. Then one day, he went out to do his rounds, and lost his way back home. He got chased by a neighborhood dog into traffic and was hit by a car and killed. That was September 2014. I miss him every day, he was my soul mate.He is now rocking out with his namesake on the other side, eating delicious prime rib, and getting mad love from everyone!
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