Bob N Sue Mortimer
He was on the sidewalk that Autumn day, crying all day for his mother, who never returned for him. A little ball of white, black and gray fur about 3 weeks old. We fed, bathed, cuddled, and instantly fell in love with him, and named him Puff.
How can one photo do you justice? I have pictures of you on your window perch with your legs hanging down in that goofy pose you had; on top of the piano ready to pounce on me; up in the kitchen window watching the birds; hiding in my cupboard shelves or peeking out of boxes; doing your contortions on the floor before falling asleep twisted like a pretzel; relaxing in Pap's lap while getting your neck scratched; drinking from the kitchen faucet; the evil look you gave us after every bath; playing tag with your little girlfriend Topaz. Even without photos, you are etched in our hearts. And we have the scars to prove that you could be much tougher than your name implied!!
But suddenly fluid constricted your heart and lungs. You couldn't jump or even walk well. The vet said it was beyond treating. I sang you your Puffer Kitty song (to the tune of Rubber Ducky), let you hear Pap say "Goodbye" over the phone and left so brokenhearted and empty. We miss our Puffer but had 9 &1/2 terriffic years together to remember