R.I.P. Fuzznutz

Last September, our zoo was driving out to Windber in the evening to look at used cars. As we were driving down Rt. 56, I saw this tiny white kitten huddled in the rumble strips along the edge of the road. Much to my Asst. Zookeeper's belief, I basically jumped from a moving vehicle along the highway to run back and try to catch him. It took me two trys, but I got him.

He was scrawny and covered in fleas. His ribs and his backbone were visible every time he breathed. The Asst. Zookeeper's only comment was to say, "I guess the little fuzz nut is staying, isn't he."

And the name stuck and we gained Fuzznutz. I let the ladies at the vet decide how to spell his name.

He definitely wasn't a cat that I would have chosen. He was much too "catish." He didn't like attention, wanted to be left alone. But he was still part of the household.

This evening, I went down to the laundry room and I found him dead in the litter box. He's had multiple trips to the vet and rounds of antibiotics, but he was never healthy. He never really grew much bigger than he was when we found him. But I expected him to last longer than a year.

I'm not sure what to tell the Heathens in the morning. While he wasn't their favorite pet, he was still part of the Zoo. I'll wait and talk to them after they get home from school tomorrow. Not a conversation I'm looking forward to having with them.

R.I.P. Fuzznutz. You'll be missed.