Monday, December 6, 2010

Tail # 3: Fluff

My parents past on a few years ago, first my father died from cancer and then my mother from a bad liver. If you have read my blog for any length of time you have heard this a few times. This story really isn't about them. It is about what my parents left me. Most people get money, property, and even family heirlooms. I got something different.
  Fluff the cat. I suppose the name is short for Fluffy, but she is not really all that fluffy. Her hair is medium in length as best and the hair feels a bit thin. I admit I didn’t know her as a kitten and only heard the story from my father of how he saved her from certain death.
  My parent’s property was broken up into two separate areas. One side sat the house and the other sat my dads shop. My dad constructed a fence that protected the shop. It was 6 feet tall and held back a very large Rottweiler. She was nice enough but the day that she found five kittens in his yard was the day that my dad lost all love for that dog.
  Growing up with my dad, I had learned over the years that the man was not fond of cats. He just had no use for the animal, but when his dog of his killed four kittens just because he could. My dad felt compelled to save the last kitten, nurse it back to health and make a pet out of her. She loved my father sitting next to him and keeping him company on most days or off ‘cat’n’ around, on the streets of Sunnyside.
  When my dad died, Fluff warmed up to my mother. The cat really wasn't the same after that. She was never a friendly cat. She spent must days hiding under the beds and out hiding in the brushes.
  When mom died she left two dogs and a cat to take care of. My brother took the dogs in and lucky me got the cat.
  Being a lot like my dad I really don't like cats. They tend to piss me off, from the spraying and clawing the furniture to random act of violence. So I defiantly had my reasons, but what do you do when you promise your mother that you will take care of her cat, for filling a promise that she had made to my father.
  As I write this, Fluff is clawing my leg and any second she to remember she hates me and take off leaving track marks in my leg. She is very bi-polar, she loves me, she hates me, she like attention, she hides for days on end.
  My friend asked one day why I told him to not pet her.
  "She likes me, she is purring, ouch," he screamed, as she scratched him a half dozen times, on the way out of his lap.
  I laughed and told him that is the way she is, she purrs not because she it happy, it is more like she is happy (almost gleeful) thinking about what she is going to do to you. When a cat purrs you think it is like this, man laughing. When Fluff purrs it is more like this A most evil kind of laugh.

  The only person that she has really warmed up to is my nephew. She crawls into his lap and rolls around, playing like a kitten. I really am beginning to think that she is crazy. How old can cats get anyway?

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