Fuzzy: A Memorial.

Justin and I had an apartment together for about a week before we realized we had sorely over-estimated our storage space. Clothes were scattered everywhere, waiting for a drawer or closet to land in. After several days of hoping the mess would go away if we denied it long enough, we sucked it up and headed to Target to buy organizational supplies.

Target was right across from a Petsmart, and on the day we went, there were signs throughout the shopping complex about a pet adoption event. We had paid the pet deposit at our apartment in hopes of moving two elderly cats Justin had owned for years in with us, but they weren’t well enough to travel. And, I convinced Justin, it didn’t hurt to just look.

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As soon as I walked over to the pets, I caught eyes with a tiny black kitten that would soon be mine. He wasn’t very tame, all his friends had been adopted, and he had been trying to find a home for about three months. It seemed like no one wanted him- and he didn’t want anyone either.

That was enough for me. In just a few short moments, I had paid for him, bought a litterbox and some cat toys, and he was coming home with us in a cardboard cat carrier. He spent the first three days hiding, and the next few months attacking our feet while we tried to sleep at night.

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Fuzzy was always by my side in our apartment, and he rode down to Georgia in my lap when we had to move thanks to some illness complications I was having. (Namely, I couldn’t breathe because of a huge thyroid cyst.)

Fuzzy lay on my lap in the days I spent recovering after surgery. He bonded with the other cats Justin and I picked up along our life journey.

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There was even joking talk of having him in our wedding. I think we would have done it had he not hated everyone but his family.

When Justin and I decided not to have kids, also for health reasons, I was a little sad. But Fuzzy was my furry son, and he filled any nurturing gap I had in my heart.

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Yesterday, he passed suddenly. It was almost instant, due to a heart defect we didn’t know he had. He was only a little over two years old. I’m crushed: I have never bonded with another animal quite like I did with him. After a rough week attending funerals, this is the last thing I could have dreamed of.

Fuzzy was a beautiful cat. I miss him terribly, as does the rest of my family. The other cats have been searching for him, which makes this even harder.

Goodbye my precious fluffball, you are loved.

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