Almost 10 years ago, I was sick enough to be hosptalized several times. Before the hospitalizations and after I ultimately had surgery, there were many afternoons when I didn't feel well so I just slept. One of those times, I awakened to find our cat, Pepper, settled next to me, purring away contentedly. This was not normal. He tolerated his people better than many cats, but it wasn't his habit to sleep on our bed or to even be on the bed in general. When it happened a few days later, again when I did not feel well, I realized that somehow he knew and wanted to offer his comfort. Pepper died today. We've had him for 14 years, having acquired him from some students who found him in the parking lot of a restaurant and randomly asked me if I wanted him. He was propably about 7 or 8 months old at the time. And he was cool, in that cool cat way. I thought that I would die laughing when he attempted to jump from the cedar chest to the window sill and he missed. He looked around to see if anyone caught this mishap, then coolly walked away with an attitude of, "I meant to do that!" Pepper wasn't as adventurous as Kiko, who escaped to the great outdoors at every opportunity, but occasionally, Pepper would make a foray into the backyard. Once he spent several days outside. We searched frantically, but could not find him. Several days later, he let us know he was ready to come back in; he was outside our bedroom window, meowing to let him in. He'd probably been in the backyard the whole time. Pepper was probably the most considerate cat. He would wait patiently by the bed until someone clearly stirred to let us know that his food dish needed to be refilled. We will miss Pepper. Rest in peace.