Stormy & Muffin 1996 - 2012
I lost my babies last spring, two weeks apart. Muffin was pure white and died at 15.5 years old. Stormy was all black and I lost him two weeks after Muffin, just days after his 16th birthday. They were like an old married couple. They were inseparable since the day I brought Muffin home to meet Stormy. The three of us were our own little family. For the better part of 16 years, they shared my happiness and sorrows and were a constant source of joy, comfort, and companionship for me.
They often teamed up to create mischief, like stealing a bag of powdered sugar from the kitchen table and making a huge mess. Most people would have been angry, I suppose, but I just laughed and tried to figure out where to begin cleaning up the mess. The entire kitchen was covered in a dusting of sugar; Stormy was as white as Muffin, and Muffin was crusty from Stormy trying to lick the sugar off of her.
I learned the hard way, that I could only buy them round beds. They dragged their beds in and out of the sun. If they had a retangular bed, they'd drag it by a corner and as soon as a hole appeared, they'd shred the bed and I'd have stuffing everywhere. Yet, if one of their stuffed toys had hole, they'd bring it to me to sew up. I had to stop whatever I was doing and fix it right away too. They'd stare at me and the wounded toy until I repaired it and tossed it back into play. There were nights when I felt like I was running a stuffed toy ER.
They were complete opposites who complemented each other. They often curled up together on their bed nose to tail and created a living yin-yang symbol. I miss them.