We lost our loyal, regal, and loving companion Wolfgang on April 13, 2009, after a rapid decline from kidney failure and related anemia.

Wolfie was a regal presence in our lives. He was a long and lanky fellow with a king-like bearing, languid grace, quick reflexes when necessary, and a tail that thumped contemptuously when annoyed. He was polydactyl, with two thumbs on one forepaw and a single thumb on the other, perfect for occasionally batting dice off the gaming table when they annoyed him. He spent much of his days lounging in the sun or on a comfortably warm spot; lurking around the house as if inspecting his domain (which he was); and receiving the affections and attentions of his subjects (us). He was extremely patient with us as we dressed him in bows and Santa hats at Christmastime, renaissance festival regalia, and even jewelry, a la a fantasy elven circlet (Wolfrond says “The Ring must be destroyed.”)

He served as part of the inspiration for the obligatory feline aliens I contributed to West End Games’ D6 Space: Aliens supplement, the Barathax (along with his “sister” Peggy Lee). Both cats spent time with me in my office, napping in my easy chair or lounging on pillows placed strategically near windows where they might catch the sun or watch birds outside. Wolfie watched me develop and write Pulp Egypt and numerous other freelance projects, occasionally contributing his own editorial content by walking across the keyboard to nuzzle the warm computer screen.

Wolfgang did not particularly enjoy gaming. When friends visited he’d deign to emerge from his sanctuary (a favorite chair, window spot, the bed, or my place on the couch) to greet and review guests, accepting their offerings of attention and affection before sauntering off. Sometimes he warily watched visitors, as if he suspected they were stealing the spoons. And occasionally he swatted at someone with his enormous paws, but never in anger; it was his method of acknowledging their impertinence at annoying him in some incomprehensible feline way. Occasionally he interposed himself between me and my gaming, such as the previously mentioned stroll across my computer keyboard and batting of dice, or planting himself on the gaming table amidst a game of Carcassonne as if to say “these are my meeples and my cities, and I am their king.”

We will  miss Wolfgang, but we will never forget him. He continues serving as an inspiration; if Maxwell’s Egyptian Diary ever reaches publication, he may appear as a pivotal feline character; I occasionally slip cats into my games (particularly Pulp Egypt scenarios); and I have been developing a board game idea based on the lives of cats in ancient Egypt.

I imagine him as he was in his prime, a lean, vivacious cat running, bounding into the sky toward the sun to join Re in the Celestial Barque; to spend his days basking in his warm radiance sitting on the prow, ready to guard against the horrors of the underworld at night and sitting regally as the earth praises Re’s return each morning.

And with that bit of Egyptian-inspired imagery I end with an appropriate memorial from the ancient papyrus scrolls:

   "This is called a Griffin because it is a winged quadruped. This kind of wild animal is born in Hyperborean parts, or in mountains. All its bodily members are like a lion's, but its wings and mask are like an eagle's. It is vehemently hostile to horses. But it will also tear to pieces any human beings which it happens to come across."