Our cat Fearless passed away today. She was 16 years old. She was named after one of Hemingway's cat. She had a pretty good purr-purr, too. She went quickly, in Dan's arms.
She was one of the Potatoes, along with her brother Shadow. They looked and acted nothing alike.
They were two tiny kittens I rescued because otherwise their desperate owner and her baby would not get out of the cold and rain at the Bremerton Safeway, not until she's guaranteed both kittens had a home (which I suspect she no longer had herself).
One night, I saw Fearless on the couch with a shadow behind her. But it wasn't a shadow - it was her brother. And so he was named.
Fearless was a good cat. We're glad we had her, and we're glad we still have her brother.