A Final Goodbye

Sometimes in life another being crosses your path, and for a brief moment in time stress, pain, and worry melt into happiness, companionship, and almost childish play. And then it’s over, leaving a hole in your heart that it seems nothing can fill. Tomorrow morning I will walk to the edge of the forest and dig a hole where I will lay to rest one of my best buddies. Puff (alias, Chief Puffy of the Dirty Foot Tribe) has passed away, the victim of poisoning. I don’t blame the person who spilled the chemicals. I don’t think it was deliberate. Accidents happen, and unlike most cats who hate getting their feet wet, Puff walked through, and rolled in, anything. For weeks, my companion fought valiantly for life, but too much damage was done, so wrapped in a blanket in my arms he eventually slipped away. I guess I knew when I took on the responsibility of a wild cat that he would face constant dangers until I managed to coax him into staying inside, but I thought our friendship would last longer than one summer. Life had different plans. “Wait for me,” I whispered in Puff’s ear as together we looked out over the garden for the last time. “Just inside the gates of heaven. I’ll be looking for you there.”

Chief Puffy of the Dirty Foot Tribe Spring 2014 - September 9, 2015

Chief Puffy of the Dirty Foot Tribe Spring 2014 – September 9, 2015

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6 Comments

Filed under Pets, Sue's Corner

6 responses to “A Final Goodbye

  1. What a handsomel Chief he was! The Chief lived up to his name until the end ~ doing what he loved to do. I am so sorry for your loss and the hole in your heart. I am sure Puffy is grateful for your hard work, patience and love that allowed him to live the best of both cat worlds in this time on earth.

    • It was a privilege knowing him. He became far more affectionate as the summer wore on. Every time I walked out the door, he would come running across the yard, and with paws always coated with something, he would lunge into my arms, and begin telling me about his day. He was quite a conversationalist. Lately, I have been pretty hard on myself for not forcing him to stay in, but to Puff, walls and windows constituted a prison and he wanted to be free.

  2. I am so sorry for your loss. I’m sure you both had a great summer.

    • Thank you. The two of us had a wonderful summer together. He was constantly “helping” me in the garden, transforming outdoor chores that seemed mundane into an adventure. He will be greatly missed.

  3. Oh Puff! You graced the world and lived on your own terms. You’ve slipped away, but will never slip from memory.

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