Three of our cats had died of old age, leaving my family heartbroken. So Brandy, my wife, looked at our local animal shelter website and saw it had a 13-year-old stray cat with no teeth, a broken ear and a cold. Betty, as the staff had named her, had one day left to live before the shelter was going to put her down.

Brandy sent me along to see her. The warden said no one had visited Betty, but as soon as they opened the cage a Himalayan cat catapulted out of her blanket straight at me. I picked her up and knew I had to take her home.

She settled in straight away, parking herself in front of the fridge, as if to say: “I’m home.” We renamed her Puff Puff, or Puffy, because she was so fluffy. Her cold cleared up with medicine, but she had trouble with her ear, on and off, as it was crumpled and pushed out. As her appetite improved, her appearance changed from a dull white coat and light black face to a full lion ruffle with a face so dark we could only see her beautiful blue eyes.

Puffy had her quirks. She loved any type of chicken and went crazy for tuna, but turned her nose up at most cat food. She licked the salt off McDonald’s fries but never ate one. She’d paw at her water to make it ripple before drinking it. She hated technology. If you picked up a phone she would stare at you or even raise a paw, pulling it down so you could see her; she’d lie across a laptop keyboard so you couldn’t use it.

Puffy was always there in tough times. After a cancer relapse and strong doses of chemo, I was weak and Puffy spent all her time with me: sitting on my lap, lying by my side in bed, head-butting me. If I went out she would watch for me at the window.

Puffy loved to be brushed. We even filled a transparent Christmas ornament with the loose fur from the brush. For a long time we thought Puffy had no voice; she hadn’t miaowed since we got her. Suddenly, she became vocal, standing in the hallway and “shouting” at us when she wanted food. It was more of a plain croak than a miaow, which she kept up until we fed her.

Four years after we adopted her, Puffy developed an abscess and died while purring on our bed. We were devastated. She worked herself into our life and our hearts. We’ll never forget her.