Muffy 3/28/1992 – 3/9/2009

Muffy passed away this morning.

She was supposed to be Renee’s cat.

I remember when we brought her home. She was so scared that she hid under the couch all day. I let her stay there until after the dinner clean up was done and Renee went out to play. Then I moved the couch and got Muff out.

I took her over to her food dish. She ate some and then went to sleep. I stayed with her until she woke up. Then we explored the downstairs together. She would take a few steps and then look at me. I’d say “ok” and she’d continue on. We explored the whole downstairs that way. Then we did the same thing upstairs. She went from room to room checking with me every few steps.

By the time the evening was through I was hooked, she had me wrapped around her little paw.

At first, she was so tiny that one of her favorite places to play was a tissue box. I’d toss a toy in it and she would jump in and scurry around after it. I set a mug of coffee down for Glenn and she was just tall enough to get her chin over the top and sneeze in his cup.

She used to give me a two second warning – if I didn’t give her some attention she started climbing up my leg. It worked better with jeans than a skirt! When I had studied long enough she jumped up and went to sleep on my Bible.

She moved on to be a fierce jungle hunter of foam balls. One of her favorite games was hiding behind the drapes and pouncing on whoever went by – she was sure that no one could see her.

Her idea of nursing was to park herself on my chest until I felt better. When I had a spinal fusion she wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. We came up with the idea of one of those bed trays with legs – it just fit over me. Each night she would wait while I got the tray over me and under the blankets – then she’d settle down for the night. She spent weeks sleeping on that tray!

She was the sermon supervisor and the neighborhood watch. She had some kind of radar, too, she knew when we needed comfort and she was there with it.

I’m not sure if she was my sidekick or I was hers, but she was my friend. She was nervous. She was shy. Maybe even neurotic. But she was a blessing. And I loved her.

Goodbye, Baby.

Scroll to Top