Miss Flufferstuff...
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/GreenLight711/100_0690.jpg?1279871870
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/GreenLight711/100_0024.jpg?1279871937
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/GreenLight711/100_0722.jpg?1279871967
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/GreenLight711/100_0516.jpg?t=1279871989 (a much younger me on the computer screen)
I remember it was spring of '04 when it happened. Gaaaaah I was a mess. Anyone that paid attention to my posts in the Cat Lovers thread knew I loved the furry little feline.
At the time she recently had kittens and, while traditionally a house cat (clearly from the pictures above), my dad decided it was too much of a hassle for her and the kittens to remain inside (she happened to give birth in the back space of me and my brother's closet). I certainly wasn't copacetic to the idea of letting her out, but then again, it wasn't my house
But I tried my best in making sure she and the kittens had a suitable place of rest anyhow (near our patio we had large blocks of firewood left over from the winter, so it seemed as good a place as any other).
Anyway, it's a weekday, I wake up early, ready myself for school, and head out the front door. On the way to the car I make my usual round by the firewood to bid farewell to the Flufferstuff. But something is different; terribly, terribly different. I see splotches of blood speckled sporadically about the ligneous tower. I look to the ground, the concrete walkway decorated in fur and splashes of red. I honestly can't remember all that was running through my head - how could anyone? - but that the environment I found myself in had the distinct feeling of a crime scene; the kind you see at the beginning of all those late night cop dramas, or Michael Mann films.
But anyway, I avert my gaze a little further, into our front yard, and set sight of a macabre trail of deceased kittens, all strung out in the most iniquitous line, leading up to their lifeless mother and my good friend. The sun was shining, the weather was perfect, but I still felt like I was caught in the middle of a hurricane.
A few yards further was the body of another black cat, this one male. I can only assume that while this little feline massacre was taking place, I lay nestled snug in my bed, hitting the "snooze" for what was probably the twentieth time
But all was not lost. After I cleared the yard of the numerous cat carcasses and telephoned my mother of the incident, I started hearing a tiny whimper emanating from the stack of lumber. I immediately rushed to the source of the faint cry, fumbling my hands throughout a splintery crevice, and took hold the tiny creature wrestling in the dark, its body spared from the misfortune of his kitten kin.
Overall, though, not one of my better days...
That once tiny kitten is still hoppin' and beboppin', though. His name is Mr. Binx and I think I have a few photos somewhere on this dang computer...
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/GreenLight711/me4.jpg?t=1279872883 (this was taken later that year, I believe, sometime around Christmas)
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/GreenLight711/1st036.jpg?1279878014 (and this was actually taken just this past Christmas)
But yes, so I suppose my needless sob story of a cat who, unfortunately, did not possess another 8 lives was to, in some odd way, make you feel better. I don't want to say it's a sort of "misery loves company" kind of thing, but sometimes it's just comforting to hear from people with whom you feel you can relate.
I really am truly, terribly sorry for your loss, CrashedCarDriver - he was certainly a handsome little devil, too. It's amazing how attached you can get, seeing things in the little animals that most strangers probably wouldn't recognize, almost like a parent taking particular notice of the idiosyncratic behavior of their child. You grow to know them so well, they become a part of you and, when they die, it feels like a part of you went with them.
I'm so sorry.
