Sparky was a genius. He was the Einstein of cats. He would look down on the other cats and just shake his head in disbelief at their stupidity. Here is Sparky opening up the cabinet door, to the amazement of Noodles.

Sparky went through all his nine lives. He was hit by a car twice where he broke his hind legs and permanently lost feeling in his tail. He once came home with a wound that our vet swears was from a coyote. He had several run-ins with an evil tom-cat in our neighborhood we called Pumpkinhead. And he had to deal with our neighbors who had several little girls who would squeal and run after him, probably in an attempt to dress him as a baby or something. His last life was spent on cancer of the leg at the age of 16 in 2004.

Sparky knew he was part of the family. He acted human. On Christmas morning he would join the family opening presents, sitting in the middle of us to get a view of everyone. At barbeques he would sit at the picnic table, looking around like he was expecting to be waited on. And he liked to sleep under the covers with his head on the pillow.