Meet Truff.
She came from a rescue shelter at the age of 4 weeks. We named her "truffles" because of her sleek, black fur. For the first six months, she was adorable. Playful.Loving. She slept with Jonathan every night. She was "his cat".
Then?
Truff got married. She fell in love with Bo (Beauregard), our silver chinchilla Persian. It was upper class meets the other side of the tracks. Immediate attraction. There was nothing we could do. They married, and THEN had babies. well, that's the story the kids will tell you.
Truff became, well, let's just say she wasn't the most happy camper while she was pregnant. We worried about her rejecting every last one of the kittens on birth, because of the way she was acting. So, we stocked up on kitten formula and bottles, and heating pads and waited.
One night, she hopped in the tub and started pushing out babies. Fortunately for me, the resident cat midwife, she did her duty popping sacks and disposing of them in her way ('nuf said). After a couple hours, we had three beautiful kittens . It was late, so we hit the hay. By morning, the tub was full of mom and six little meow meows- Walker (first to walk), Binky, Pollack (Kati thought people from Russia were called Polaks, don't ask), Spitz (as in Mark Spitz- he fell into the toilet at two weeks and almost drowned. The cat, not mark Spitz), Marbles (for the perfect white circles on each side of his stomach), Dogface Bunny Chow (Growing up she looked like a puppy first, then a bunny) and Sapphire.
Everyone was happy and healthy.
Truff was the perfect momma. For six weeks and two days.
Then, she went to the dark side.
And never returned.
She is now the one who chases you through the house for no reason. Attacks your feet from her hiding place when you sit on a bed. Don't get me started on trying to put her in the cage at night. She runs in very happily and quietly, then sits in the back of the cage screaming and howling at you while you try to close it.
Today, she has spent the day laying on the hearth of the fireplace, growling and screaming at everyone who walks into the living room. Then chases them around abit before returning to her post on the hearth.
Jonathan loves her death, and plays with her all day.
But seriously, once the sun goes down? He won't go near her.
For those of you who have seen "Anastasia", you will appreciate that every night Kati picks up Truff to put her in the cage singing " In the Dark of the Night", albeit with her own lyrics ...
In the dark evil has found her (oo-wa-oo)
In the dark of the night, she will change ...
Sweet Truffie is gone, and the Dark One has come ...
In the dark of the night...
Anyone else out there blessed with a pet like this?



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