Lover and Bed Stealer

KITTY FLUFF

LOVER AND BED STEALER

A story about his life...read first before you read this one to the kids.

  Kitty Fluff is a big, soft cat.  He is a friend to all of the animals on the farm.  He roams around the farm all day entertaining the kittens, watching the chickens, sunning, or sleeping on the patio.

At night, he bounces from room to room finding just the right place to sleep.  Sometimes he picks my side and sometimes he picks Thadd's side.  He always picks the coziest spot and at 25 pounds he is hard to move.

 When kittens show up and need a big brother, he is willing to teach them all his tricks.  His most fantastic trick is the quiet game.  Well, mostly quiet except for the purr when you get close to him.  Scratchy, the kitten, is a good pupil as you can see.

When ever you feel a nap coming on you can be sure Kitty Fluff will find you and join you.  He loves to cuddle and if Brett has had a hard day and has to cry it out, Kitty Fluff comforts him.  Brett's disappointments will never be the same.

 He is never too busy to take a quick nap with his friends and even lets the tiny kittens use him as a kneading pillow.  I think the two different perspectives of a very similar picture show you the true relaxed state he finds himself in when at rest.

Another favorite pastime is tree climbing.  He taught the two kittens how to climb trees and how to catch lizards hanging out in the trees.  Kitty Fluff's favorite tree to climb will always be the Christmas Tree.  I had to buy all shatter proof ornaments because one year Kitty Fluff knocked our tree over three (3) times.  I think this year will be different.

 Sometimes he goes to Thadd's side.

 Sometimes he goes to my side.











Sometimes he sleeps on the kitty bed outside.  I think he might need to upgrade to a larger bed or maybe even a dog bed.  When we found him wandering the streets of a neighborhood and called the number on his microchip, no one claimed him.  He was a kitten about six months old and cute as can be.  One morning when I went outside to feed him, he was gone.  I searched everywhere.  Finally I found him in a stroller.  He was ripped up, bleeding, and looked as if he might not live very much longer.  The vet repaired all of his physical injuries, but the swagger and the seizures never went away.  The past years have been filled with violent seizures and sometimes complete paralysis for a minute or longer.  I've not been at his side for all of them, but the few I've experienced have scared me.  Every night Kitty Fluff has the privilege of sleeping inside.  Tonight was no different.  I walked outside to carry him in to bed.  He had been following me around the farm earlier like he does every night at feeding time.  We walked to the chicken coop, the barn, back to the house, back to the coop, and then to the barn, AGAIN.  He looked at me, winded, but he followed.  I started to pick him up but he resisted.  I continued to walk toward the house with the kittens, Buster and Kitty Fluff in tow.

Inside I served dinner and ate and watched some television with the kids and Thadd as he had just come home from the airport.  I walked outside to get Kitty Fluff.  He was at the door, waiting for me like he does every night.  He looked different somehow.  His head wasn't right and his tail didn't respond to my voice.  I got closer and put one knee on the floor with my fingers reaching for his soft fur.  As my fingertips began to sink in the fluff on his belly, I knew he was gone.  I put my hand around his chest.  No heartbeat.  His eyes were lifeless and the tiny tip of his tongue was out.  The urine left in his bowels was on the floor next to him in a small pool.  He was still warm.

I placed my face on his soft, fluffy belly that makes me sneeze.  I stood up and asked my husband to come outside, "Please."  The kids quickly followed him.  We all looked at Kitty Fluff.  On the patio in his usual spot.

The life gone from his body and his temperature slowing dropping, Chloe scoops him up.  As any child might dream that her tears would awaken even death.  Her tears fell and fell.  She asked me to take several pictures.  She also took pictures of her cat.  He still looked so soft and so fluffy.  I think that is why we named him first, Baby Fluff and when he grew to be twenty-five pounds we changed it to Kitty Fluff.

I suspect the last seizure was too much for him.  His body had endured four years of seizures.  Never predictable, but always terrifying.  He won't be remembered for his seizures though.  He will be remembered for his happy jump over the door threshold every time.  His comfort in your spot and his licking of the butter, if it was not properly stored, will be spoken about often in our home.  I think the thing we will remember the most is his kind and tender heart for others.  He always eased our tears and comforted the children and the kittens.  He will be missed in our home and in our beds.

This evening in his prayers, Brett asked God to watch over Kitty Fluff and to make sure Chloe sees him when she gets there, too.  He knows the one hurt the most tonight is his sister.  Kitty Fluff was already on Chloe's college packing list despite the strict no pets policy in the dorms, all dorms.  Thank you for five years of fun and for making me baby proof my Christmas tree.  It will now be safe for my grandchildren.

Chloe asks as we are walking back in the house after we buried Kitty Fluff, "Mom, do you think we can get another kitten to take his place in our hearts?"  As much as I don't want to break her already fragile heart I respond with no commitment.  "We can talk about it later."

R.I.P. Kitty Fluff

THE END