Saturday, August 11, 2007




















This was my cat Puddy. She was a blue persian, yes with a flat face and all. Puddy had a heart shaped nose. She loved to scratch her nails on the nearest post, but when told once not to do so, she never did again(and no I didn't beat her!!). She was a very sweet cat. She layed at my feet to sleep every night. She refused to eat table scraps, no matter how often I offered. Except for one time only. I had cheesecake and gave her a bite, she licked it off of my fingers in absolute ecstasy, until she realized she was eating table scraps! She immediately stopped licking my finger, did this funny little dance with sound effects and all, like she was trying to spit it out, and then she gave me a look that said "I hate you, how dare you"! Puddy tried to be a prissy cat, but she was much too sweet for that. Whenever her bowl (food or water) was empty, she would run to me, meow, and look up at me with the most beautiful wide innocent eyes, then run playfully back to her dish, expecting me to follow! She rarely played with anything other than a piece of lanyard she had found one day, while I was cleaning out my closet, and of course, my yarn!! She was terrified of strangers, and hid whenever people were around. Actually, when I first got her, she stayed in my room, and hid in the very small space between my bed and the wall, for about a month! During that month, she wouldn't come out unless noone was around, or when she wanted to snuggle up to my feet in the middle of the night. Then it happened. First of all, I should tell you, I was pregnant, and living with my friend in a basement apartment of another friend's house. I left one morning with my friend to go grocery shopping, we were gone for a few hours. When we arrived home, I found that a dog had roamed downstairs. The people living upstairs had two large dogs, thus, the door to the basement was to be closed at all times. I shooed the dog back upstairs, and continued to bring in my groceries. Then both the dogs pushed their way through the door, and came back downstairs. Once again, I shooed them away. Then I began to wonder where my "pretty girl" (that was what I always called her) had gone. I started calling for her, and looking in all her hiding places, when at last, I found her hiding behind the entertainment center. When I went to grab her, she hissed and let out a long winded, low snarling cat growl. This was the first time she had ever done this. I didn't think much of it, considering the dogs had been downstairs. I picked her up and sat down on the couch with her, thinking to calm her down. Fifteen minutes later, she had calmed down mostly, and decided she wanted to hide again. When I let her go, I realized that my white shirt had been stained with blood. Puddy had obviously had to defend herself from the dogs, and even more obviously, she didn't win the fight. For the next day and a half, I pleaded with everyone to please help me get her to a vet, and was repeatedly told that she would be just fine. I knew she wouldn't be fine though. She would walk very slowly to her water bowl, try to take a drink, and her head would just drop into the water. Or, she would go to use the litter box, and before she could even use it, she would have to take a rest inside the box. Whenever I tried to hold her she would cry, and act as though she could hardly breathe. Now Puddy had her own little pilet on the floor, and at the end of that second day, I fell asleep next to her on that pilet. At five 'o'' clock in the morning, I awoke to the sound of her retching. Puddy couldn't even stand up to do this. In an effort to keep her from choking to death, I held her up while she vomited. Finally, after 10 minutes of vomiting, she just tipped to her side while still in my arms. I thought at first to hold her back up, to make sure she was done, but when I tried she became heavy in my hands. I picked her up and held her in my arms to my chest, as gently as I could. She looked up at me with tears glazing her eyes for a moment, and then her eyes slowly began to roll. At the moment, I knew Puddy was dead.

In memory of Puddy

Remembered by Missy, USA