The Day After

When a pet dies, lots of little poignant things happen in the immediate aftermath. First, a final resting place needs to be chosen. Thankfully, OH instantly offered a patch on his side of the garden, near the pond, and also excavated it while I sat on the patio stroking our dead cat with my face streaming, hoping that our lovely next-door neighbours wouldn't choose this particular moment to poke their heads over the fence to ask if we might perhaps look after their puppy tonight (they didn't -- they were out).

Eventually, I was ready to let her go. I turned around to OH, who, having dug the little grave, had been sitting patiently next to me. "There's a dead cat on our patio table," I said to him, "she can't stay there."

We arranged her in a box on a lovely posh-looking placemat and buried her and planted a potted rose on top. "To a faithful friend," OH said, raising a shot glass of Himbeerschladerer in her honour. "Yeah," I concurred, "To that rare cat that didn't have an evil bone in her body." It might just have been me but I think I heard a collective breath, or rather, chirp of relief amongst the assembled birdage in the garden, who probably didn't quite agree with our assessment.

Today is The Day After. In a sense it's worse than the loss of any of our previous kitties. When we lost our first in 2003, we grieved and managed just 3 months without and then went straight back to the cat sanctuary, and came back with Fluffy Cat and Neuroticat, who had been with us ever since and were such great characters, both of them. They were joined by Mr Tubby from down the road, another personality, so at one point we had 3 feisty cats winding around our feet, hogging sofa space  and eating the hair off our heads. Neuroticat was the last to leave us, and for now anyway, we do not have plans to immediately go out and rescue another cat to fill the gaping hole left by the one we've just said good-bye to. In any case, OH is increasingly gravitating towards dogs, I am gravitating towards a world without piles of pet shit in my garden, and both of us like the thought of easy, unencumbered travel while we're both young and well enough to do it. But that would be a world without cats, and right now, it's a bleak bleak world, I can tell you.

Her old bed needed a wash and is now drying on the patio. Shall we hang on to it so that next-door's dog can use it when we look after him? (Which we will, now we no longer have a neurotic cat who gets upset at dogs)

Fur brush. Donate or hang on to it? The local Cats' Protection League is looking for volunteers to help out with grooming kitties in their shelter down the road. I'm tempted. I think I'll hang on to it.

Thyroid special iodine-free food. We had just got another huge load in. Will donate to the cat shelter. They seem to be full of really ancient cats who are bound to have hyperthyroidism.

Got this for Neuroticat, a vitamin supplement. Came too late for her. But next door's puppy might love it so we'll keep it or pass it on.

A cat fur shaver that I got for Mr Tubby and never used. Plus 5 cans of normal cat food and tons of dry food. Maybe we'll keep it -- our new hedgehog and the birds will like it. As will Rizzo and Friends. Oh well, we'll just have to put it down under the hedge at the back of the garden where no-one will see...

Cleaning the catflap for one last time.

Heartbreaking -- having to hoover the sofa in the study where Neuroticat spent her last weeks in her home-made "nest".