Exactly three years ago today our 19-year-old cat Fluffy died at home.
Fluffy Esmerelda was a medium-haired black cat with one small white heart-shaped dot on her chest, near where her heart would be. As a kitten she was a gift to my older daughter, who was then four, way back in 1986. My young daughter came up with the “creative and original” name.
Fluffy had a bit of a rough start in life. She was the offspring of my day care provider’s mother’s cat. Fluffy lost the end of her tail in a crush incident through being slammed in a refrigerator door by a child before we even got her. (I guess in some ways she was lucky, because her all-white littermate, the original kitten my daughter had picked out, was killed in this way.)
Fluffy was a grand old gal. She was a bit pudgy most of her life, although small-boned, and ruled the other cats with an iron paw. Even when she was old and stiff, none of the other cats dared to challenge her. She always ate first and had first pick of the choice resting spots in the living room. She loved people, even jumping in the lap of my cat-hating mother when she came to visit. She wanted nothing more than to be loved and appreciated. Well, maybe there was one thing she wanted more: She adored vanilla frozen custard, and I swear she could recognize the logo of the restaurant where we bought it. She always wanted a lick.
One evening in July 2005 Fluffy, now an elderly cat, was suddenly lame in one of her back legs. She went to get up from a nap, and could not walk on her right hind, or keep her balance. She was very scared, and so were we. I was on the verge of calling the vet, when the problem seemed to begin to pass off, almost as suddenly as it happened. She limped a bit over the next hour or so, but was steadily better. We figured that she’d either wrenched the leg a bit in getting up, or was experiencing severe stiffness from her arthritis. By the following morning, she was completely back to her usual self.
Exactly three years ago this morning, August 26, I woke up to find Fluffy with her back end cold and seemingly paralyzed, unable to get up or walk. Both hind legs were unable to bear weight. In my panicked phone call to the vet, I learned that this is what happens when a cat has heart failure and throws a clot which blocks circulation to the extremities. It is very characteristic. Sudden lameness in one or more limbs can be a sign of heart failure, even if it resolves on its own. She had had the first warning signs with that episode in July, which we did not recognize at the time.
Fluffy, being over 19, was given only a 10% chance of survival even with immediate hospitalization and intensive treatment. She always hated vets, so I elected to let her die at home, rather than in a vet hospital. She died later that day while we were waiting for the vet to come for in-home euthanasia. My daughter was holding Fluffy’s head in her lap as Fluffy lay in her favorite spot on the living room floor, where I had placed her. Fluffy accomplished her final passing in her own way, in her own time, as she had always lived.
But Fluffy’s death had an unexpected bright side, for her passing started the chain of events that led me to adopt Cameo. (See the thread “Cameo’s Story—Hurricane Katrina.”)
Fluffy, I miss you still. You will always have a special place in my heart. I can’t eat frozen custard without thinking about you, and how you always begged for some. But thank you for sending Cameo. I felt I owed you this tribute, and will eat vanilla frozen custard tonight in your honor!
