He loved to pose.
He loved to sit on boxes.
He "helped" me in my craft room.
He loved sleeping on my pink fuzzy bathrobe, any pair of my pants that was laying on the floor, and the pile of warm clothes out of the dryer. He loved red vines, and cereal milk. He helped us make our sandwiches when we made our lunch, we dubbed him the sandwich artist. He loved sniffing the wind and sitting in a sunbeam and for some strange reason he loved watching the garbage man go by. Franc and I will miss him terribly but his memory will live with us always.