He was a lump, as cats go. I don't think I ever saw him moving really, usually he was just hanging out with my friend giving her the pleasure of squashing her knees. Or her feet.
This cat moved around the US almost as much as I did and he was a witness to many milestones in my friend's life. He was her constant.
Montana would sit there and watch, shifiting his tail ever so gently, smiling like his feline cousin the Chesire Cat. I am sure there were times he was laughing as well. Especially on those occasions when poor souls like me would have a massive allergy attack after he coyly brushed past.
He was a fixture with my friend. A part of her and her world as Luna had been in mine. Montana was part therapist, part boyfriend, sometimes a constraint, but always the breathing example of unconditional love. He nipped at friend and foe and kept you on your toes. He was a 'watchcat' for my friend, making sure no one messed with her or him, that even included his other relatives like the blue haired dachshund, Scooby.
Oh, Montana. It was good to know you. I hope you are there in the animal after life chasing Luna for all she's worth.
I'll leave this quote as a final epitaph for Montana. I'm sure he would've agreed with this too:
Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow. ~Jeff Valdez.