I never wanted any cats! I made myself very clear . . . I thought. On Camille's 3rd birthday we got a little black cat - the runt of the litter. Fine, I gave in. I was out-numbered! Then on her 7th birthday she fell in love with this cream colored fluff ball (pictured above). Though I protested and said how I really didn't want anymore cats, I was out-numbered once again. Camille couldn't live without the little fluff ball and Scott, the ol' softy, couldn't either! All I could do was grumble my protests which fell on deaf ears.
I'm not a totally stone-hearted meany. I think kittens are adorable. However, I can keep in perspective the fact that they grow into cats which then claw your furniture to shreds!!
Well, for those unfamiliar with the ways of cats, THEY tend to choose who they like most, and who they will sleep next to at night! Wouldn't you know it, the little fur ball plopped himself right between Scott and I on the very first night and that was that!! No matter how many times I threw him off in the middle of the night . . . he just came back. He was a momma's boy!
When we were naming him, manly names didn't fit because he was so "pretty" and always mistaken for a girl. I'm not sure how we settled on 'Branford' but it had just enough sissyness to it. . . not that it really mattered, we had so many nicknames for him, he was probably confused.
Much to my surprise, when we found out our little buddy had been killed (by a horrid pitbull . . . don't even get me started!), I was quite heart-broken. Usually when a pet dies (referring to when we said goodbye to hamsters), it's a sad moment but not heartbreaking . . . at least not to me. Camille's another story - she really loves animals.
However, when Scott made the discovery my heart sank. We were all so shocked and completely heart-broken. We had Branford for 12 years!! He was referred to as Camille's little brother since she had no siblings. He was constant entertainment and always had something to say.
In the picture above, he is in a suitcase. He always hopped in our suitcases when we were packing to go somewhere, hoping we wouldn't leave him behind. Not that he enjoyed traveling . . . he absolutely hated it! When we moved from Vermont to Utah - I don't think he stopped complaining from Essex to Palmyra, New York. At that point we stopped to see Scott's parents who were on a mission at the time. When Branford came into the house he was so frustrated he didn't know whether to hiss or purr. It was really funny to watch!
We teased Branford about being a Boston Red Sox fan because he always seemed to complain when the Yankees won.
Most of his days were spent sleeping in the funniest positions. Lying completely on his back like an otter . . . draped over the arm of the sofa with all for legs hanging down, or inside a cubby hole or a drawer that was left open. Apparently he needed lots of energy for his nightly capers. Once he knew everyone was in bed, he would call out Astoria and they would run races and tackle and get into mischief. Then when the romping around was done, he'd jump into bed with us and talk very loudly telling us all about it. Either that or he would purr so loudly it sounded like his purr box needed to be oiled!!
I can tell you this much, I will NOT miss fur everywhere, his cat food all over the floor, being woken up by his loud purr or having to block out all the lower level windows at night so that he doesn't fight the neighborhood prowling cat through the window.
I WILL miss his cuddly soft fur, his very lengthy conversations and finding him sleeping in the oddest places and positions. You are truly missed!
(We did tell you that curiosity kills the cat but you didn't listen!)