This cat was born in a patch of jade plants on the side of my house. I would see him walking past the back door, or stalking gopher holes. My interaction with him was limited to spotting him through windows and glass doors. Feral cats avoid human contact, so he'd run if he saw me.
I liked having this wild thing just wandering around out there. I never fed him or anything, it seemed like he was doing just fine on his own. I just left him alone. I never even named him.
A few weeks ago I found his body in the patch of jade plants he was born in. He must have died a while ago judging from the decomposition. I found this picture I took of him back in '06, a rare shot of him in loaf mode. Pretty handsome, eh?
I know he was just some stray cat, but I always regarded him as my little analogy. I can relate to being resourceful enough to survive, and living this simple life untethered by human connection, yet appreciated from afar. He was wild and free. To me that's a pretty awesome life.