I've asked Rae to send a picture when she's feeling better. But things you need to know about Tiny Piglet. He was not Tiny, which was one of his first names. He wasn't precisely a Piglet either--the previous owner's kids tried to call him that after the Pooh character. He was big and brawny, white of fur, except for his raccoon tail and a tiny spot under his chin that looked like a spaghetti stain. He had liquid gold eyes that made me want to paint them. When I lived at my parents' house, he would wake me up by batting the door knob of the door until I would let him out. Then he'd would jump up, tap the door knob, run to the top of the stairs, jump, tap that door knob, and dash back down to rinse and repeat. He would affectionately butt his head against my legs, face, armpit. He was the last cat I owned before I came down with adult onset allergies. (Ironically if I had been able to keep him, I might never have manifested with the allergies. But I lost my exposure.)
He got to watch my nieces grow up and he survived their toddlerhood, which I imagine was no mean feat. He was loved muchly and he will be missed muchly.