Fluffernutter the Mercocat has passed on to his reward today.
Fluff, whose trials and tribulations were shared in such famous threads as I’m crushing your head, Yes it’s a cat but it’s not Fluff, and Fluff, the cat with kidney failure has finally shuffled off this mortal coil.
He was a gift from my parents to elfbabe when she was three. My folks, never cat people, obtained said cat when their (then) only grandchild said she wanted a kitty for her birthday. He lived with them until they passed on, then spent the last 11 years with us. Another link with the past is severed.
In a household with a wife, 2 daughters and a female dog, Fluff was the only other guy around. When elfbabe referred to me as the “alpha male” of the household, I told her I’d better be the alpha male, because the beta male was a neutered cat!
He finally just ran out of gas. 18 and a half years old (nearly), kidneys not working, getting subcutaneous infusions of fluids for the last few years to keep him going, skinnier than a coathanger, he remained as aloof towards me as ever to the very end. Just as he ought to have been.
Mrs. Mercotan built a wood box to store him in. He’s now in the freezer until elfbabe can return for memorial services. Hopefully the ground will be thawed. I favor a viking cat funeral, complete with cat-burning pyre on the shore and fireworks following, but the rest of the family has nixed that idea.
The dog remains, aged almost 14. I hope the dog can hang in there. One thing that kept the dog eating (dog was losing weight, needed encouragement to eat) was the sight of Fluff eating out of her bowl. It made the dog eat out of sheer “hey, that’s mine, you can’t eat it” covetousness.
Bye, Fluff. You were ok for a cat.