Monday, March 21, 2016

Rufous





Yesterday we said goodbye to our loyal and loved pet Rufous.  It was hard, and complicated, and sad, and terrible.  
Last week, in preparation, Raven wrote this short story.  It deserves to be shared.   



Rufous


My usual daily routine is this: Sleep, eat, sleep, wander around, sleep, find someone to pet me, sleep some more. Maybe eat a few extra times. Depends on the day. Basically I don’t do much. I haven’t had to do anything different since they brought me to their Big Box when I was a newborn. I was living in the Outside before. That was a bad time… but now I don’t have to think about it.
The one that found me smelled like Clean. Just Clean. The Big Box smelled like the Lady did. There was also a Little One, who smelled different, and kept rubbing my fur. It felt nice, and my throat started to… make this weird vibrating noise. They liked that so I kept doing it. I liked living in this Big Box. One day there was another Little One that came. I already knew there was a Man; he smelled like the dumpsters I used to eat out of. But the Little One was evil. She would make this awful noise, and pull my tail and ears and hurt me. Whenever someone hurt me I hissed, or scratched. That made me feel better.
 I liked to jump on the big fluffy thing (there are so many of them, in almost every room. it’s great!) and lay down there.
The little ones got bigger, and nicer too. I learned that when they wanted to pet me or feed me they would say Roofaas or something. Roofis? Rooface? Sometimes they call me Poofiss. Or Poufous (they laugh whenever they call me that. I don’t think it’s funny). I eventually started looking over whenever they said anything. I still do that now and it seems to work.
My favorite was always the first Little One; she filled my food bowl with those tasty brown things. If I followed her around, she would pet me.
But now she’s gone. She put most of her things in boxes and took them away. She left me and now only comes home for a few days at a time, and not often. I miss her a lot. She smells like my mom, but also different. Her smell is gone from the house now. Some days I can’t remember what she smells like.
The other Little One, the one that used to pull my tail and ears, is the one that fills my bowl now.
I’ve started to call the Lady my mom, because she’s the closest I’ve had to one. She acts the way I imagine a mom would; she pets me the way I like, she takes care of me, she gives me food (sometimes if I follow her a lot she gives me more). The only thing she doesn’t let me do is enter the forbidden Little Box, where she goes during the Dark. She only ever moves the wall to go inside, then closes it behind her. I’ve only been there a few times. There is this big fluffy thing in the middle that sometimes I would jump on and sometimes I would crawl under. There isn’t anything else interesting in the Box. Every time my mom finds me in there she carries me out (that hurts my belly) and doesn’t pet me for a little while.
Sometimes the Man makes this noise with his big paws and makes me get off the big soft fluffy thing.
The Man is scary sometimes.
***
Living in the Big Box is different now. It’s been 17 person years, so I’m 84 now. I feel different. I don’t like those bumpy floors. They take me higher and lower in the Big Box. It’s hard to go up; it hurts my legs. Sometimes I think they forget to put food in my bowl. There’s that brown stuff, but it doesn’t smell good anymore, so I don’t eat it. Sometimes I try to jump on the fluffy thing I know I’m not allowed to sleep on, and my mom doesn’t tell me to get down. Even the Man doesn’t scare me with his paws.
Sometimes I think there’s a new fluffy thing in the Big Box, but then it’s just the Man on top of the soft thing. He is bigger now, so I lay on him. The Man is warm.
Now all I do is sleep on the fluffy things for the whole day. Sometimes I eat, but I’m not hungry. Sometimes I hurt all over and I don’t know why. Sometimes I can’t breathe properly.
The Little One likes to look at me. She comes really close to my face and stays there. I pretend I don’t see her. All of them – my mom, the Little Ones, the Man – like to use these strange things when I’m sleeping. They call them “caaamraas” and use them to “taayk peekturs”, I think. I know if I look right at them, they will suck my soul, so I make sure to look away. They always put them right in front of my face. I can see myself in it, but I don’t move.
 My mom pets me more now. I wonder why. I feel so sleepy. Sometimes I sleep all day and am still sleepy. I am still so sleepy…
***
Sometimes my mom puts me in this cage. I don't like it. She takes me to the Outside. I know one day she will bring me back to the Outside and leave me. I don't want to leave. I cry and beg but she lifts the cage and puts me in the big moving thing. She takes me to see other Ladies and Men that smell different. I don't like it. 
***
Today I wake up in pain. I can't breathe and so I stretch out on the fluffy thing and pant. My head hangs off the edge. If I stretch out more, I can breathe better. 
My mom pet me for a little but then left. At least, I think it was my mom. I can't smell anything very well. When she came back, she put me in the cage. It's the Dark now. I want to make noise and tell them I'm not happy but I can't breathe. So I sit without moving (there's no space to move even if I wanted to) and we go to that strange place with the other Men and Ladies. 
We get to the new place and I can't smell it. 
Why can't I smell it?
The new Man is nice. He pets me. 
We are in a Little Box and there's no fluffy thing; only a flat thing high in the air. I walk around the Box, suspicious. I don't know what is going to happen. Is my mom going to leave me here? I don't want to stay here. The Man lifts me onto the flat thing. It's too high to jump down by myself. I am scared. 
The Man takes me to another room. There is a big machine. I lie on a table and hear little clicking noises. Then He brings me back to my Mom. 
I hear them talking and know it's about me. I hear "harrt" and "failyur" and "floooid" but don't know what it means. 
My mom looks worried and scared like me. I try to tell her it's OK and she pets me. 
I feel something sharp in my back. It hurts, but only a little. When it's gone, the Man and my mom pet me a lot. It still feels like something is in my back. It feels funny. 
***
I feel better now! I can breathe again and want to run around and play and make noise and cuddle and be petted and do everything! I could run up and down and around on the bumpy floors all day.
Sometimes the Little Ones or my mom would play with me. They had these fun things that I would chase around. Sometimes if I chewed them enough, they died, but then came back to life. I don't know how or why. They moved so fast I almost couldn’t see them. I wonder if they are still in the Big Box somewhere.
They don't play with me anymore because I'm usually too tired to play. But now I have lots of energy! It's like I'm young again! 
***
I don’t feel so young anymore. It’s been a month since we went to that strange place. In the morning and before the Dark my mom or the Man make me swallow this little white thing. I don't know what it is, but I always feel better after they give it to me. At least, I did. 
Now I feel awful during the day and in the middle of the night. Those things don’t work anymore. I still feel like I can't breathe right. Sometimes I'm too tired to jump on the fluffy things, so I sit on the floor in front of them. When I lay down, it hurts; when I stand up I cough, which also hurts.
I drink more water now; I get two bowls instead of one. The little brown things aren’t as tasty anymore. I wonder why.
 Everyone pets me more than before – ever since I started feeling different. This is sometimes good, sometimes bad. The Little One lays in front of me, my mom lets me lay on her lap for longer, and the Man comes looking for me more often. Because of this, I am woken up more frequently. Sometimes that scares me. I’ll be in the middle of sleeping when all of a sudden I’ll feel something on my back. I’m always afraid it’s another one of those sharp things. Then I realize it’s someone petting me. I can go back to sleep after that.
***
Now my daily routine is this: Sleep, drink water, sleep some more, have one of those white things, lay on the fluffy things, eat, lay some more, try to breathe, sleep, drink water, sleep, another white thing, sleep, sleep, sleep…
I have lived a long, full life. It may not have been too full or too interesting, but I’ve had my fair share of adventures in the Outside and in the Big Box. I’ve seen Little Ones turn in to Big Ones, smelled lots of smells, wandered in all sorts of places. How much more could a cat need?
They always feed me.
I like it when they pet me.
I feel safe when they cuddle me.
I feel loved when they scratch my ears and kiss my nose.
I am happy.