I don’t remember when we started giving Binky fries. I wish I did. That’s why I’m writing so many of these little vignettes. Because I know I’ve forgotten too much already.

Now that he’s gone, I don’t think I can ever eat those fries again. I’m not sure I can eat any fries again. I guess that’s one way to eat healthier. Not the way I wanted.

Our boy LOVED fries.

I’d eat part of one, then give him the rest. He didn’t have any teeth, so he couldn’t eat the really crunchy ones. But I’d bite off the crunchy ends and give him the soft parts.

He’d smack at them with his giant toothless jaws and he wanted another one the very SECOND the previous one was gone.

I was going to end this post with a lament. I have over 2500 photos in the Cat album on my iPhone, and none of them of Binky eating French Fries. But then I found a video. It’s kind of hard to see that he’s actually eating a french fry, but there it is.

Papers. Computers. Boxes. Mail. He’d just step right over it, walking with purpose, even if his legs were wobbly that day, until he got to me. Then he’d put his front paws on my thigh and just look at me with so much love and need and expectation. “This is the time we have love, Momma. Every night. This is the time for love.”

And then he’d flop over so he was either half on my thigh and half not or until he was lying with his front paws or just one paw or his head on my ankle or over my ankle.

So many nights, my knees would start to bother me or my foot would fall asleep. I’d tell him, “Gotta shift legs, buddy.” Or “I need my foot back.” Or “Let’s switch feet, Bink.”

And he’d usually look up at me or stir slightly, but he always went right back to sleep moments later. Until I’d need to shift again. Over and over again. All night. Every night. I don’t remember when he started doing it, but it was sometime in 2020. Once in a while he’d still have a lap desk night, but I don’t think he ever went a night without at least a little Momma hip time.

My boy had the best eyes. The most expressive eyes. They always told you exactly what he wanted, and 99% of the time, all he ever wanted was to be loved.