He was quite the food monster, and that's how he grew so big. Some might have called him fat, but the veterinarian said he was big, and maybe a little chubby but muscled. It was not a problem, and not a health risk. Whenever it was nice weather outside we would keep our back door open and Fuzzle would lie in the shade of the garden, being a cat. Enjoying life. When it got a little later in de day and he had his dinner, he would run to the door to be let out. Then he would spend most of the night hunting creatures. Sometimes he'll bring a mouse or a bird home. We think it was his way of telling us we should feed him more and that we were bad hunters! I'm also sure that the next dinner he'd believe that we prepared his catch.
Not only was Fuzzle cute and cuddly, he could also be a tease. Lying on the couch seemingly asleep, my mom could walk buy in a large flowing skirt and quickly one paw would shoot out and grab the fabric. And everytime she would walk by he'd do that. Sometimes he would run around the house and jump on the little dresser to jump on top of the door. There he would sit very still - thinking he was hidden - to paw at people walking underneath the door. We'd often pretend to not know he was there so he could relish in our "scared" response. When he got a little older, he couldn't make the jump anymore. He'd sit on the dresser and stare at the top of the door, then jumped off all sad. 5 minutes later he tried again. So we sometimes lifted him up there so he could enjoy himself. Getting off was never a problem.
Today we found out he died. He got hit by a car in the head while chasing another white cat. He was supposedly instantly dead. Poor Fuzzle, he had such a good life. We love him so much. And I miss him. It makes me cry.
Bye you reckless crazy Fuzzle, you are already sorely missed.