[GusGus]

So I had a cat named Tiger for 17 years. My mother had found him (and the rest of the litter) abandoned right after he was born, so I hand raised him. About a month after he died, Kevy and I found another abandoned cat and brought him home. (Rufio, our little lost boy) For several weeks he would stand in front of our mirrored closet (where Tiger like to sleep) and cry when the lights went out every night. The only thing that would stop him was when I said "say goodnight to Tiger and come to bed." And then he would stop - and come to bed.