Sweet Scruffy Lowrey

Scruffy came to us as a 3 month old kitten. We had lost our long-time pet and decided to adopt another cat. My husband and daughter went to the humane society to select a kitten. Scruffy was the last one there. All his littermates had been taken.

He was a long-haired brown tabby and very, very “scruffy’ looking, hence his name. We soon became certain that we had gotten the best of the litter. Once he was cleaned up and de-fleed, he was gorgeous! 

I believe he was a Maine Coon but due to malnutrition as a very young kitten he never sized up except for his paws which were huge compared to his body. He had the most wonderful sweet and gentle personality. 

For some reason he took to me and would abandon any lap in favour of mine whenever I sat down. He would arrange himself along my arm with his back feet tucked into my hand. He would purr loudly and look up at me with the most loving expression often gently touching my face and mouth with his big paw, never exposing his claws. 

He had a sense of humour and would race around the house with his head down and tail flying then plop down at my feet and expose his beautiful soft belly. If he happened to have some poo deposits on his bum hairs he would come to me and allow me to clean him with a damp cloth as he wrapped his paws around my arm. Never allowing me to feel the prick of his claws.

He was about 10 years old when he developed the habit of breathing with his mouth open and his little pink tongue sticking partly out. My husband had the day off and we thought we better take him to the vet. 

The last time I saw him was in his usual pose as he sat on the kitchen table purring and giving me his loving look and holding his head up for a kiss to say goodbye when I left for work. Little did I know that that would be my last kiss. I will always remember that image of him.

The vet informed us that he had congestive heart failure and the compassionate thing to do for him was to have him put to sleep. (I found out much later that the Maine Coon breed is prone to congestive heart failure.) His lungs were filling up with fluid and there was nothing that could be done as the condition is progressive.  He will always be in my heart. I think of him often and keep a picture of him on my dressing table mirror. My sweet, gentle, loving boy.

Contributed by Julia Lowrey

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