At some point very very very shortly thereafter, a half-dead, scraggly, mangy, snaggle-toothed, skin-and-bones, very sick cat wandered into our backyard. He looked like he was about 50 years old, walked stiffly as though he had arthritis, was missing a tooth, missing half of one ear, and had scars all over his face. I'd actually seen him around the neighborhood before - the first week after I moved in to the new house I saw him hiding under a car while a coyote tried to grab him. This death-on-legs cat was usually pretty skittish, but on this day I think he decided, "Fuck it. I'm half dead and literally starving to death. I guess I'll rub myself on this lady's leg and maybe she'll feed me."
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| This was the first day. He's actually all black now, but was missing a ton of fur when we met. |
Yeah, I fed him. He had the most pathetic gravelly meow-noises (they are not proper meows, that's for sure) and he absolutely destroyed an entire can of wet food, so I fed him again later that day. And the next day. And the day after that. I started calling him all sorts of variations on the word "scruff," like Scruffy, Scruffers, Scruff, and Scruffin. The last one stuck. His middle name is Furbastard because just look at him.
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| The most beautiful cat in the world. Not. |
Eventually my roommate put her foot down and said that if we were going to keep feeding him, he needed vet care, needed to be neutered, needed vaccines, etc. She generously took him to the vet and snip snip stab stab VOILA! We had a pet stray cat. The vet said that he was about 2 years old and had FIV, which was likely the cause of all his ailments.
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| Food. Now. |
Long story short, Derrick and I took Scruffin with us when we moved into our own apartment. He is fat, playful, and happy now. He is super cuddly and loves being around people. It's hard to believe he's even the same cat.
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| Fat. Happy. Has enough fur to be Furminated now, which apparently blew his mind. |
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