Mr. Fluffy (Pt II)

(In Pt I, I wrote about Fluffy being a strange cat.)

“In life there are times we have to make difficult choices and sometimes it hurts. But you move on.” That’s a quote from Nashe's mother. It could have come from almost any parent. It’s something we want our kids to learn. It was one of my dad’s top priorities—preparing me to step up and make the tough choices, to do what needed to be done, no matter how unpleasant. But when life presented me with a chance to pass that lesson on to my kids, I choked—and that’s why Fluffy was the most expensive “free” cat I ever had.

Fluffy completely stopped eating and drinking, so we took our kitty to the vet—who wanted to keep Fluffy overnight. The next morning (Saturday) he called to say Fluffy had suffered kidney failure and was almost certainly a goner. We’re not sure it’s related, but the cat liked to lie in the middle of doorways and high-traffic areas. He got stepped on more than once by people carrying laundry baskets and other large items—they just couldn’t see him.

After hearing the news, my wife asked, “Isn’t there anything we can try to save him?” It just so happened there was. For $1,800 the vet would try “something”. Considering our bills at the time, I wasn’t going to spend that on the cat. Even without bills, that was too much (or so I thought).

While I asked the vet to put Fluffy down as gently as possible, my wife broke the news to the kids. When I joined them, my daughter had her right index finger pressed against her temple, close to her eye. She used to do that when she was upset, but not yet crying. She asked, “Isn’t there anything we can try to save him?” I couldn’t lie. I explained what the vet said. She asked if we could please do it. That’s when a responsible parent would have said no. But just as I couldn’t lie, I couldn’t tell my little girl that saving her beloved cat wasn’t worth $1,800. A good dad would have used that moment to teach a life lesson. I went the other way—I told her we would try. I guess I did teach her something that day. It was just the exact opposite of what I’d been taught.

Sadly, Fluffy didn’t make it. The vet was very sorry and gave us a discount. So Fluffy didn’t cost me $1,800, but he could have.

This story has an odd ending. My wife wanted to bury Fluffy in our backyard. When she picked him up Monday from the vet’s office he was frozen. She and the kids (and their friends) said their goodbyes to a frozen Mr. Fluffy. Instead of waiting for me to dig the hole, they did it that afternoon. But they didn’t quite make it wide enough. You see, he was frozen, and his tail was sticking out just a little. When they were trying to fit him in the hole, they (and the kids’ friends) heard a distinctive little “snap”.

You know how little kids are. Hearing the cat’s tail snap was startling—and made all of them shriek (gross!!!) and laugh. So Fluffy’s funeral was not all tears. The kids were sad, of course, but there were giggles too and happy stories about their adventures with the cat. Without realizing it, my kids learned that saying goodbye to loved ones is part of life and that life goes on despite the sadness. They would smile again and hold onto their memories.

(Note: Did you notice that my daughter used exactly the same wording my wife did when she asked if there was any chance to save the cat? Coincidence??? Hmmm…)