She was tough, fiesty, full of attitude, but she was friendly and sweet with a purr much bigger than her small size. She gave a headbonk that could cause concussions. She could never understand why I bothered to offer her cat food. She firmly believed she should be allowed to share my meals right off my plate. Cat food was beneath her; she was entitled to human food at her demand.
Puff hadn't looked healthy in the entire time she lived here. She was thin; she couldn't be bothered to groom much; her name was not very fitting anymore! Yet, she ate, loved her nip and meowed her demands to anyone who would listen. She slept even more than usual the last few days, but showed no signs that she was in pain or suffering. She was gone when I got home tonight with no signs of struggle. It appears she left peacefully and like everything else Puff did, she left this world on her own terms.
I hope she has found her first owner. They would be delighted to be together again. I'll miss you, old girl. Thanks for letting us share the last few years of your life. It was a privilege.