This was the day I had a huge fight with Brad, went out, walked around all day, hung out at Mojo’s, called Rand and got a job, rode my bike home when it got dark and found my cat Banjo dead on the road in front of the house. He got hit by a car. His eye was knocked out.
I buried him under the peach tree.
This was really strange, because Banjo was one of the characters in my 24-hour comic, the day before.
Here’s what I posted about it the next day:
I have really sad and weird news about this comic.
The comic wasn’t particularly about the human character, and I think I ended up spending as much time on the cats as I do on the people. I based them on two of my cats — Banjo and Fluffy. Banjo was the black cat. Banjo got hit by a car last night and he’s dead; I came home and he was in the middle of the street. I had to bury him before I went to bed last night.
Cats are cats and I agree, but Banjo was a truly classic animal and I’ll never forget him. He seemed more like a dog than a cat sometimes; he would follow me when I went on walks and he slept outside my door at night. I’ve had a lot of cats but never one that loved me quite as passionately, devotedly, and yes, stupidly, as Banjo. Black cats should stay off the road at night, but you could never tell him anything. I really miss him, and I’m glad I wrote a story about him before he died.
Damn, this is just weird.
Banjo was the most devoted cat I’ve ever had. He cared about one thing in the world, and that was me. He would follow me around. At night, he curled up on the step outside my door. If I went for a walk, he’d follow me a half mile down the street…but the second he saw a dog he’d bolt right back. He was a really great cat.
Robbie and I always said, when you die cat we’re gonna skin you and make a banjo out of you. So we named him Banjo, so we’d remember. But when he died Robbie wasn’t around, and I didn’t feel like skinning him any more. I just buried him under the peach tree.