Hey It’s Jet Here.
Thank you, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts for sending such supportive and comforting comments over the last few days. Mom promises to respond to each one; give her a few days. Today, we share a proper tribute to Puffy, Puff, the Puffster, the Puffmeister, Puffarooni, Huffy Puffy, Puffaroo, ….
We’re staying on the lighthearted side; Puffy and Fluffy had promised to share their Real Story with my BFF (best feline friend), Savannah in her insprining series: Real Rescue Cats and Dogs are Talking, Life Changing Interviews with Savannah. Savannah will share their stories posthumously (VBP – vocab builder project).
… With one EXCEPTION: When Mom and my human sister adopted the “boys” from Cat Network in 2003, Mom made a solemn (VBP) promise to them the very first night. She looked into their beautiful feline faces and PROMISED them that from that day forward, they would never suffer again, they would live like Princes… and they did.
Puffy was this thingie called aloof (VBP – I’m on a roll today!). Unless he was wrestling with Fluffy, chasing Fluffy, beating Fluffy to Mom’s 2nd office chair for the main snooze of the day, or perched in the high jalousie windows in the dining room or living room during the winter, he mostly avoided contact with humans and canines.
Puff always maintained his manly man dashing good looks, grooming himself frequently. My Madrina (Godmother) always told Mom she loved the heart above his eye. Here are some of Puffy’s best antics:
- Too cool for treats and toys – Mom tried a diverse selection over the years, sometimes the newest and coolest… when it came down to it, he liked the occasional plant/flower (then threw up), cardboard boxes and kneading the plastic shopping bags to make just the right sounds.
- “I only drink from regal receptacles” (VBP) – Puffy rebuffed (VBP) most water dishes, he required Mom’s Dansk ramekin (VBP) or preferably her sink with fresh running water as requested ON DEMAND multiple times throughout the day.
- The Puppet Master – Oh did he boss Koko around… Puffy devised all sorts of Kitchen plots and found a way to involve the creature pleasing Koko. I have to hand this part over to Mom, as I had not joined the family yet.
Here’s one of my NOW favorite memories:
About 6-7 years ago, I made a 2 lb. turkey roast (you know the kind that has a net around it?) in my favorite Dansk loaf pan and had removed it to cool. Locating it deep on my counter top to acknowledge the skills of my counter surfing golden girl, I left my house at 9 p.m. to take Rachel to her Dad’s house. I returned exactly 15 minutes later. Upon arrival, I found the pan in smithereens on the floor. I cleaned it up avoiding foot and paw damage. It then occurred to me that the roast was missing.
I was too tired to deal with that and decided to take a few minutes to collect myself in my room after giving Koko the extended version of the naughty speech. As I approached my bed, I smelled an herbal scent and immediately located the roast remains on my PILLOW with a hunk missing. I’ll leave the Koko details out at this time by saying she received another extended naughty speech peppered with a sprinkle of amazement and laughter in my head.
Months later, I’m watching TV in the family room and I see Puffy jump up onto the kitchen counter (the kitchen being the ONE place he was not allowed on the counters… MOL… if only I had a Kitty Cam back in those days!) On the stovetop, he was batting something around using his front right paw as a hockey stick. The light bulb went off! I always wondered how Koko reached the roast. Answer: Puffy cleverly pushed the turkey roast to a place where Koko could reach it. She did the deed and received all the blame. I imagined him lording (VBP) over her on the stovetop laughing in his head, saying “Cats Rule, Dogs Drool”!
Puffy at times courageously joined everyone on the bed. At night, his chosen spot fell right below, in between or on my feet. Sometimes, when all the other fur family members were elsewhere and I was reading in bed, he would jump up and allow me to pet him for a while. Sometimes he would cuddle up by my right hip where I could still reach his chin. The only requirement: I couldn’t look at him; I had to stay focused on my book.
I respected Puffy’s need for distance and safety. I loved him as he was and was so thankful he learned to trust me over time. I considered all human interactions a victory.
Another Forever Puffy day.