Rest in Peace, Fluffy

We came home from work today to find that Fluffy had passed away while sleeping under our bed.

When our last cat Brownie passed away in 2011 after being with us for 17 years, we were very sad. She had been with us since very early on in our relationship. When we took her to the vet to get her cremated, we saw a flyer for two older cats whose owner had passed away and were in need of a home. The house was very quiet without Brownie and we kept thinking about those two cats.

We called the number and over Labor Day weekend, a woman brought them to our house: a long-haired black cat named Fluffy and a short-haired Tortie named Tammy. According to their paperwork, they were both 15 years old. We knew that we were setting ourselves up for loss by taking in older cats, but it wasn't their fault that their owner died, and we wanted to give them some comfort in their remaining senior years.

Fluffy had a hard time adjusting at first. She seemed to have been traumatized by the dogs at her foster home. Tammy adjusted quickly, but they didn't really seem to get along. They tolerated each other and that was about it. We joked that they were probably hoping they'd be adopted into separate homes. Though we were told Fluffy was a lap cat, she hid in our closet for weeks. Eventually she came out of her shell. She was a quirky cat, and we loved that about her. She became very affectionate. She also seemed very smart, and would often respond vocally when we spoke to her.

She had long fur, even on the pads of her feet, and she would slip when she walked on our laminate flooring. She started to join us every night when we sat to watch TV, curled up on our laps. Lately she had taken to sleeping with us, sometimes between our pillow, and sometimes on our pillows and practically on our heads. She loved drawers and cabinets. She would never resist the opportunity to climb in and explore. She also liked it hot. She would go into the boiler room on the hottest days of the year, and generally hang out where it was warmest.

We had to keep her food separate from Tammy's because they each had medications they needed take. Once in a while Fluffy would try to eat Tammy's food. All we would need to do would be to say her name and she would slink off sulking, knowing she had been caught. Tammy, on the other hand, would need to be physically removed from Fluffy's bowl when the situation was reversed.

We were only together for less than two and a half years, but we became very attached to her. She would follow us around the house and would always greet us when we arrived home from work. That didn't happen today, and Craig immediately suspected that something was wrong.

Rest in peace, Fluffernutter; we miss you.