Snape in a Sweater

In late July, we said goodbye to our kitty, Snape. He had cancer and had been failing for a while. Yet just like with Cinder Kitty a few months ago, we knew it was time to let him go in peace.

Purfessor Snape joined our family, along with his sister, Cinder, in 2007 when Hannah was in the 2nd grade. We went to the shelter to adopt one kitty. Snape purred in our hands from the moment we picked him up. Cinder, on the other hand, hissed and swatted at us. Regardless, Paul said, let’s take two – they’re small. And we did, surprising Hannah with these new additions when she returned home from school.

In the beginning, Snape (aka Boo, Boo Bear, or Cuddly Wuddly Woo Boo) was my kitty. At some point, the tables turned; Cinder adopted me, and Boo chose Hannah as his human.

Boo was a gentle giant with a purr like an engine motor. You learned not to leave your coffee unattended, or you’d see him dip his mitten in for a taste. He was a polydactyl cat with extra toes on his paws, making him the perfect candidate for the best mittens award. He was our mouser, delighted to deliver his catch to Hannah in the dark of night. He mourned Hannah’s absence when she went off to college, dragging around her socks as emotional support. He had a “woe is me” voice he would use when he waited for Hannah to join him in her room, as if luring her home.

He was Hannah’s emotional support kitty, and although we knew he was failing, he accompanied her on the trip to Brunswick this summer. He lived his best life, enjoying his last weeks with all of her attention, unencumbered by pesky dogs.

After almost 19 years of kitties in the house, it’s unusually, sadly, quiet.