In memory of Boofy

1997 - 2006

Boofy was born on 16 November 1997 in unit 5, 713 Brunswick St , New Farm. His was a difficult birth, but he survived it, as he would several other challenges throughout his lifetime.

I first encountered Boofy and his brothers when I came to view the unit next door. Boofy and his brothers were a key reason for me selecting that unit. I had been through a tough time and needed a place to heal. What better place to do that than one surrounded by cats. Boofy was six months old at the time, and a tiny cat. He was quite timid, and was the first cat I had ever met that was scared to come up to me. That all changed with his first haircut. He came back from the vet with the distinctive hairstyle – short all over, but with fluffy lower legs, tail and beard – that he came to wear each brutal Queensland summer. He looked like a little ballerina in leg warmers, running about on his toes. For some reason, the haircut gave him courage – he clearly felt pretty swanky – and he was brave enough to come in and say hello to me. It was love at first haircut.

Never a good sleeper, I was often awake in the night, and Boofy began giving me secret cuddles under cloak of darkness. He began spending more and more time in my flat, along with his brother JiJu, who had by that time pretty much moved in with me. For a while I had a problem with peeping toms – disgusting, stinky old men that would peer through the curtain cracks at night. Boofy would smell them there, and would race up onto the back of the armchair and growl at the men through the window. He was the tiniest cat, but so brave, and he was going to protect me from those awful men.

The units were very hot in summer, and often I awoke very early, restless from the heat inside. Boofy and his brothers – JiJu and Screamer – would love a game of soccer in the courtyard outside my unit in the early morning cool. I bought ping pong balls that had soccer ball markings, and we would have a great game – rolling the ball across the pavers, the cats racing in from the side to be the first to intersect the ball's path and bat it in a different direction. It was great fun.

I worked just across the road, and would come home every lunch time to be with the cats. Later on, I worked from home. Boofy would supervise myself and Janet at all our work – hanging the clothes out, doing office work, gardening – none could be managed without Boofy's sharp eyes watching to ensure we did a good job. We had a lot of quality time with our little boy.

Boofy was a tiny cat, very slender and small, and not very strong in the early days. He was at that time unable to jump onto the windowsill which was less than a metre high without limping afterwards. I had observed Boofy eating with the others, and quickly realised it was a trying experience for him, which explained how underweight he was. Boofy's bottom right fang was misplaced, and came up over his top lip (we were incorrectly told that this could not be fixed). This tooth, combined with having to compete with the other - much larger - cats for food, caused him a lot of difficulty eating. I began feeding him on the sly, chopping the food into pieces the right size for him to pick up in his mouth, and hand feeding him when necessary. He loved it and began to blossom. When my neighbour decided to move away, she asked if I would like to keep Boofy and JiJu. Would I what!

The time came for Janet and I to move in together, having bought a townhouse in New Farm (Boofy was always a New Farm cat). Combining my two cats with Janet's dog Brady – "I can ‘fix' those cats for you, Kim!" – was a challenge. Three weeks of an open plan townhouse barricaded into dog and cat areas, with bedtime particularly fraught as they all wanted to sleep on the bed but not with each other! But finally Brady learnt that these cats were part of his pack now, and not to be chased. And we had peace (and sleep) at last! It is an indicator of Boofy's personality that he never once during all that chasing, cornering and barking, struck the dog. He was a gentle cat. He would simply look at the dog with this puzzled expression on his face – "What is wrong with you?" – and wait for us to pull the dog away.

Boofy came to love Brady, much to Brady's chagrin. Boofy wanted the world to know that Brady was His Dog, and spent many hours rubbing his scent all over him. In bed, he would try for cuddles with Brady at any time of the night. He would rub all over him, or sneak in for a snuggle with him when the dog was asleep. Brady would wake to find a cat cuddling him, and would leap up – "Cat germs!" – and move closer to Janet, so Boofy would move closer again, so the dog would move again... you can imagine how much sleep was had on those nights!

The townhouse block was Boofy's kingdom. When we moved there, we saw a rapid development of his personality and his physical wellbeing. He was such a happy cat. He loved his family, his home, his courtyard. He got along well with the neighbours, including the cats – most recently Tiger and Carlo – and over time, his fear of men diminished so that our neighbours Adrian and Matt were able get close, and even to hold him. He grew to a healthy weight, although he remained smaller than the other cats, and our proudest day – and his – was when he climbed onto the roof for the first time. You could see how much he had impressed himself from the look on his face! A cat who once could not jump onto a low window sill, was now sitting on the roof and king of all he surveyed.

He came in one day with blood on his face. I was horrified. My baby! His problematic tooth had broken off – we will never know how. The vet removed the root of the tooth, and his ability to feed himself improved, although he always maintained a preference for being hand fed by me.

I have so many memories of Boof – the way he secretly practiced going through the new cat flap when he thought we couldn't see, until he had perfected the process, and then nonchalantly and flawlessly stepped through it in front of us, as if he could do it all the time; sitting on the dining room table in an Amazon.com box to keep an eye on us all; curled up in the sunny spot in Adrian's courtyard in the morning; sleeping under the lilly pilly or the weeping fig in our courtyard in the afternoon; washing his brother JiJu's ears; sitting by the courtyard gate, waiting for me to come home; sitting in the very middle of the catnip bush; testing his own bravery when tradesmen would come into the house – so loud, so big – by forcing himself to stay longer and sit closer each time they came to the house, until when the kitchen was renovated, he was able to watch the men come and go without fear; his time on television, in a feature on pet grooming – his hairdressers (Janet and John at Animal House) requested Boof especially, because he was so well behaved when he had his hair cut, not fighting them, happy to see them, charming as always.

Boofy was charming. He was charismatic. He made big impressions on people. He was loved everywhere he went – the grooming place, the vet, our neighbours, Adrian, Matt, Simone and Kerry especially. He was wise – he never fought – he just had this energy about him that meant the other cats – even the fighters – did not fight with him. He just held his ground and gave them a ‘look' as they approached, and they would walk past, all thoughts of rough-and-tumble games forgotten.

When I couldn't sleep from stress, a cuddle from Boofy would calm me until I could. He gave me countless koala-cuddles, always on my left shoulder, and would rub his face against my lips, and bite my nose. He loved all the family, but he loved me the most. He was always my favourite, and I was always his. He was so loyal and so, so brave. He exhibited so much courage throughout his life, particularly in the face of his health problems.

Boofy was taken from us far too soon. He had polycystic kidney disease, which caused sudden renal failure a few months shy of his ninth birthday. Our vet, Camille, did everything she could for him. Boofy fought hard, and we did too, doing everything we could to support him. We fought for five weeks, but the disease progressed rapidly. The prognosis was terrible. Boofy was tired. We knew it was time.

Boofy died in his courtyard, on the morning of Sunday, 24th September 2006, with both his mums by his side.

Boofy will always be in our hearts and, I think, in the hearts of all who knew him. He was a precious angel who was sent to take care of me, and who did that job expertly. I loved him completely and gave him the best life I could. He repaid me a thousand times over.

This page is in memory of you, Boofy. Good luck, my angel boy. I'm sorry I cannot accompany you on the next phase of your adventure, but I will love and miss you always. You know where I am for the next time round.

I would like to thank Camille, Sarah, Maddy and the rest of the team at Teneriffe vets for taking such good care of Boofy and for supporting us in the battle. I would also like to thank Steve and Angie at Pets Eternal Peace for treating Boofy with the dignity he deserved, and to our friend Liz for taking such good care of Janet and I through this terrible time.

To anyone dealing with kidney failure in their own cat, I extend my deepest sympathies. I would recommend Tanya's Feline Chronic Renal Failure Information Centre as a vital source of information and comfort.

Kim Moody
Brisbane, 25th September 2006

Well Boof, it's been almost a year since you left us. I miss you so much. Sometimes I think I see you out of the corner of my eye. I hope that you are still watching over me, just as you always did. I hope most of all that you are at peace, and that I will see you again one day. You were the best friend I could ever have hoped for, and I wish more than anything that you were still here, healthy, happy and whole. Thank you for everything. You have, as always, all my love.

Kim Moody
Brisbane, 22nd August 2007