Patches was originally our neighbors' cat (we think he was a stray before that) and we'd see him sometimes when he'd come into our yard or the neighbor kids would bring him over. This neighbor family was immensely messed up, the husband beat the wife and got the kids involved, threw wild parties where one nights' activity was throwing a big volley of empty beer bottles onto our metal roof, etc, and we later found out that the little boy was pretty rough with poor Patches.
One day they moved out and left him to fend for himself in the bush. About a month later my sister took him in against my parents' wishes, which of course pissed everyone off but I wasn't against having a cat and kind of wanted to take him in too. When we got him I was maybe 11-13 years old.
He wasn't a big attention-seeker and liked to play rough, but he was always playful and would be willing to cuddle if you picked him up.
His favorite hobbies were hunting when he was younger, but always fighting. Other cats, small dogs, probably even large dogs, anyone who got into his territory was fair game for a beatdown, and he usually did beat them down, although he picked up a few injuries along the way. When he was younger his tail got bitten by a dog and about 3/4 of it to be amputated, so he had a short tail most of his life. One time he got his butthole scratched and had to get it stitched up. Just earlier this year he got a nasty cut on his face that needed to be stitched up.
So throughout the many years we had him, it was pretty much the same story, he's spend his days hanging out in the yard, playing with and being the boss of any other cats we had, he'd meet me at the driveway when I got home and follow me in to get some human attention inside (my dad says he doesn't do that with anyone else), sit with you if you were doing something (this was the cat that liked to hang around when I was working on cars) then he'd head out for Kitty Fight Club.
We had lots of fun playing with him when he was young, during summer vacation he'd get tons of attention. My mom always jokes about how we wasted 2 film rolls on cute things he did.
Even though my sister would annoy him a lot, she was the only person he was never rough with. He'd just sit and be a good lap cat with her and Patches was easily and obviously her favorite cat, she often lets him sleep in her bed. She would really spoil him like crazy.
Yesterday he was estimated to be around 16 years old, but he was still quite healthy and active, just not as agile as our 2 younger cats. If I found that he lay down on his cat bed and never got up one morning, it would actually be very surprising at this point, but not a bad way for an old cat to go.
But yesterday, late at night, I was in the shower and heard what seemed to be our dogs going berserk at the neighbor's dogs across the fence. This happens a few times per week. This time it went on longer than the usual couple of seconds, my family went out front to find out what's going on and my sister saw everything happen.
A pack of stray dogs had chased Patches from outside the property and managed to jump the tall wall into our yard (first time this ever happened - it was at a convenient height for keeping dogs out but not cats) and had cornered Patches. He has the option of hiding on the back patio that's "caged" with holes only big enough for a cat but he didn't get far after jumping the wall. My sister said two of them tried to tear him in half, she completely broke down into hysterics and started crying "They killed my baby" 
My dad rushed out and scared off the dogs but Patches was badly wounded and seemed barely alive. There are no vet's offices open around here at 1am on a Saturday so we could only take him to a vet's home nearby, probably to have him put down.
When we got there the vet said that to save him, he'd have to go into surgery immediately (not an option) and part of the treatment would involve wiring his jaw shut so it could heal, a harsh recovery for an old cat to live through. Maybe I'm being selfish but I would have liked to try that and see how it went if we had the option, he was living a good life and seemed to have a few more years in him, but we didn't have the option anyways. I was standing by and my dad was patting his head as he was put down, but I don't think he'd really been conscious for a while at that point.
After seeing other members' cats die at younger ages recently, I got thinking that I didn't have any recent pics of him. I never did get one. I caught him in a grainy pic taken April this year, newest besides that is from 2009:
That's him on the left. Pic was taken in night shot mode with my old phone.
This one's from 2007, again he looks pretty much the same as he did yesterday morning. That's super-adorable younger Tammy on the left again, no he's not her father.
Here he is with our crazy cat Thor who lived hard and fast:
Here here is sticking his tongue out at you:
And finally, a good pic my sister staged of a younger and chubbier Patches:
I don't know who's going to keep the strange cats away from posh princess Tammy and giant softy Louie now.
