Portrait of Marcia Wilson, Peter Wilson and Fluffy

Our cat Fluffy came to us in a box from one of my father's pro bono patients. Fluffy was pure white and covered in lice. She had been taken away from her mother too soon. My mother fed her with an eyedropper and took her to the vet. They cleaned her up and administered all the necessary tests and medicine to ensure Fluffy was okay. Everything seemed fine but inwardly the damage had been done. Fluffy defended herself from imaginary harm at every turn. She did it with her claws, waiting around corners for me. My mother got her declawed. Poor Fluffy. Things got worse for her and anyone in her path. This is a picture I drew from a snapshot of Mom, my younger brother Petey and Fluffy trying to hide in a box. One day my father asked me if we should give Fluffy away, which really meant bringing her to the local shelter. "But who would have her?" I replied. She had a home even though Fluffy never felt at home in this world. We kept her until she died at 15 years old. Friendless yet loved.

20” x 16”
Digital/ProCreate
Gicleé Print Available
2023