Goodbye, Klimt

As the zero regular readers of the Complete and Total Loser know, the Loser has a no-pets/no-people policy toward life. He's bad with both and doesn't cope well with loss. 
The Loser has said, however, that he may get a puppy or a kitten when he's eighty-five years old or diagnosed with a terminal illness that will kill him within a decade, a more likely scenario.
Yesterday, a friend of the Loser put her 19-year-old cat to sleep. She had named him Klimt, after the artist. He was a good cat. It will always amaze the Loser how a brain that would fit in a tablespoon can have an entire personality and enough survival skills to enable a naked, small creature to survive outdoors in all kinds of weather. 
So long, Klimt.

Klimt the cat lounges on a carpeted floor in 2011.