Stir Fry
The years of joy spent with you far outweigh the grief I feel now.
The shelter named him Stir Fry, but he soon became our Fry Guy.
The moment I felt a light, playful tapping upon my shoulder, Fry instantly had my heart. When I felt first contact, I was busy cleaning the floors outside his giant, double-decker cage. As soon as I looked up from my sweeping duties to investigate, he immediately cowered into the back corner of his metal fortress and did his best impression of a tough guy. But he couldn’t fool me, and his attempt at a big, scary hiss captivated me immediately. I found his continued attempts at intimidation adorable.
I remember seeing his front leg hanging out through the metal bars of his cage door one day, so I walked up along the side to peer into his top floor accommodations. He quickly retreated back to his corner to stage another hiss. It was quite comical by this point in our “relationship.” I knew he was a lover and not a fighter so, when I saw management jotting down on their clip board about him being “aggressive,” I knew I needed to take him home… but convincing my husband that we NEEDED this cat took a little time.
I hated leaving him there at the shelter at the end of a workday, knowing he’d be alone in that cage all night. I thought about him constantly which made it near impossible to sleep. It was more than I could bear. My longing for him grew with each passing second. My husband eventually relented, and I adopted him immediately! He was finally home… just in time for Christmas!
Fry’s reunion with Toco, his fellow shelter mate that I had adopted a couple months prior, was absolutely adorable. I could hear them running back and forth from upstairs, finally cage-free to play and chase each other all night long. I just love how relaxed and at home he became…
It took a few months before I could pet him; he still had his guard up, but once he let it down the bond was unbreakable. And he turned out to be such a goober!
He was also a great uncle to Cece and Lelu…
He was my “big baby boy” and we loved him without measure. He became the apple of our eye. Those big round eyes and cute, curly ears only added to his already sweet and funny personality. He was “the cutest kitty in the world” and after 18 years of companionship, not having him around anymore grieves us both, my husband and me.
Fry’s story started out not so great. Bred in a dirty trailer by a couple of old ladies, he fought hard to survive on bird seed. These women had decided they no longer wanted to breed American Curls and completely neglected these poor, amazing kitties.
I remember seeing this woman walk into the shelter, oxygen tank in tow, insisting that all her cats were infected with FeLV. She requested that they all be euthanized! At least twenty, if not more, were rescued from their dirty trailer by shelter staff, and, when tested, none of them were found to be infected with that disease. (Ironically, Fry did end up contracting FeLV but fortunately it never was an issue. I think probably because he was much older.)
Fry was the cleanest of them all, as most were encrusted in feces and terrified of any human contact. Many suffered from chronic diarrhea and upper respiratory disease… and sadly, some did not survive. But the ones who did were adopted very quickly, despite the inside walls of their cages covered in snot! You see, these cats are very special. They have amazing personalities to go along with their adorable looks, making them absolutely irresistible. If anyone had gone in “just to look,” I guarantee they ended up leaving with an American Curl kitty cat.
We believe Fry was about nineteen years of age at the time of his passing. I’m honored that eighteen of those years were with us. He gave us such joy and laughter, and it’s strange to not have him by my side anymore. He wasn’t suffering, so we decided to let him pass away peacefully and naturally at home. I couldn’t bear to bring him back to that vet for another stressful car ride just to experience another unproductive vet visit of poking and prodding. We knew our time was limited and wanted to spend every possible second by his side, so that’s what we did. And it was the right decision.
I took care of Fry the best I could, always assuring him of my presence and love. This video was of his last hours with me…
Sadly, my husband missed his exit by mere minutes, and I ‘d never seen him cry like that. Draped over his body, he wept. We both did, but we also felt a peace in knowing we did what was right for him.
I will always miss him, along with all my others, but I know he’s waiting for us in my catified mansion in the sky, having an amazing time with Jesus and all his kitty mates.
Oh, what a reunion it will be! Until then, rest in peace, my sweet Fry Guy in the sky. I love you so much.
Welcome back! So glad to read your stories.
Thank you for saying so, I appreciate that... been feeling down and haven't been much for writing. Seems the only time I do write is when I've lost another kitty. It's nice to know someone out there enjoys what I share.