So this morning, he was brought front and center to my attention. While cleaning the spare room up for my MIL's imminent arrival, I moved a pile of t-shirts off a pile of stitching charts. Whoa! Stink! Harley must of peed on them the last time he got shut in that room. Thankfully, the charts were mostly undamaged, and the shirts are washable.
As much as I grimaced from the smell, it brought a small smile to my face. He left me a last, unforgettable, present to remember him by.
I miss my stupid cat.