Fluffy

The office and manufacturing building where I worked was on what looked like an alley. In front and to one side was old "shotgun" houses inhibited by lower income black families. In the back and other side was a railroad yard. In the early eighties, before I started working there, my co-workers said they had heard gun shots one day and had to duck down in the back of the office. They thought it was a disagreement over a drug deal. In the fourteen years I worked there, I never saw or heard anything like that and I was never afraid. As a matter of fact, a couple of the other ladies and I would walk around the block at lunch for exercise. Anyway, I just wanted to you to picture the neighborhood.

Around the year 2000, I had gone outside to smoke. I would walk up and down the sidewalk, to the shipping dock and out to the dumpster. I heard kittens meowing and started looking for them. There were two of them, one calico and one black. They did not look like they were but about two months old. A couple of kids from the neighborhood came by, walking home from school and they took them with them. I thought to myself, good, they are taken care of and will be loved. That was the last time I saw those two kitties.

A few days after seeing the first two kittens, a little gray one was at the dumpster. Someone had cut all his furr. I could tell he had kind of long hair but it had been chopped and gapped all up. This kitten was so sweet and loving and cute. I could not let those kids do anything else to him. I, of course, am assuming it was the kids who gapped up his furr. I took him in the office with me and layed him on my sweat shirt jacket in a chair. He just purred and went to sleep. I already had a cat at home and did not really want another so I thought I would keep him at the office. I would let him be the "plant" cat, catch the mice and feed him there. I bought him a litter box and a couple of bowls for food and water.

I noticed how dirty my jacket was where he was laying, so I decided to give him a bath. I took him in the ladies restroom, put him in the sink, turned the water on and started bathing him. Now I know you are expecting a wild story about a kitten stuck to the ceiling as they do not usually like water or a bath. I am sorry, but I will have to disappoint you. He was calm and never tried to escape or get away. Before his bath, I thought he was solid gray. He has white just on the toes of his front paws, white knee socks on the back and a beautiful white under neck and chest! He was a dirty, dirty boy!

Three days have gone by and it is Friday. He will be okay in my office...over the weekend.... by himself ..... alone.....again. Okay, I will take him home JUST for the weekend and bring him back with me on Monday.

Andi, my youngest son, had never been an animal person, never been close to any of the dogs or cats we had ever had. By Sunday, he was keeping the kitten in his room and calling him Charlie. Now how could I take him away from Andi and back to my office? Well, I couldn't, he stayed and is still our beloved cat.

His furr grew out and he is a fat, fuzzy, fluffy gray ball of hair. I get it cut in a Lion cut a couple times a year, in March and the last of July. This keeps him from having furr balls and he is much cooler with the high humidity here. The groomers say he purrs while they shear him and he is very calm. In the winter, he gets to have furr balls and his full length mane.

He was de-clawed on the front and neutered as soon as he was old enough so he could stay inside all the time. Oh yeah, the name Charlie didn't suit him and he just looked Fluffy. He never meows unless his food bowl has been empty for a long, long time. Then he will run beside you and try to steer you to the pantry to get his food. If you continue to ignore his food addiction, he will eventually nip your toe. Hence, the reason he weighs about 20 pounds. I asked the vet about putting him on a diet but he said it is not unhealthy for cats to be overweight, so I let him eat.

He always purrs the minute you touch him. He sleeps at the foot of my bed and will not let me shut my door or he will paw until I open it...regardless whether he is in or out. When it is cold, he will get against my legs to stay warm.

I found out he does not like to share his litter box when I moved in with someone with a cat too. We even set up two litter boxes but because she would use both, he would not do anything but urinate in it.

Fluffy is not a very masculine name but he is King of our house. I just cannot imagine what would have happened to him if I had not brought him home.