rivendellrose | be well, fluff

My family's old black and white long-hair cat, Sassy (originally Sassafrass, eventually known more as Fluffy), had to be put down today; her only working kidney (the other stopped working four years ago) was down to ten percent of normal function.

We got her something like ten years ago, when my grandparents called to ask if we could take a black and white kitten they'd found in my grandpa's car engine. They'd heard a funny sound, popped open the hood... and there was the greasiest, dirtiest, most flea-infested little cat they'd ever seen. We took her home, and didn't even know she was mostly white until we'd given her a bath. She was so covered in fleas the water turned immediately red when it touched her, from the flea-dirt. A few months down the road, Sass was bigger and healthier, but she never fully recovered, mentally, from that car-ride, I don't think - she drooled, she fell off couch-arms and would just go back to sleep, and had a horrible temper.

She was nothing if not funny, though. Her method of hunting always got me laughing - she'd just sit under the bushes, absolutely still, until birds forgot she was there, and then jump up to get them when they got close enough. And there was never anything quite like watching a big, fluffy white cat with huge black spots crawl across the lawn like a gigantic white and black caterpillar, crouched down so low you couldn't see her feet for all her fluffy tummy-hair. When I was younger, she used to bound across the yard when I called her, trilling each time her feet hit the grass. And even after she'd lived with my aunt and uncle for four years so she could be a partly-outdoor kitty when my mom moved into an apartment, she always came running if I'd go over and trill for her.

The end wasn't a surprise - she hadn't been in good health for the last few years, and it's to be expected, considering her start in life, but it's still kind of sad to think that she's gone. Have a good journey, Fluff.