My poor little very beloved pussy cat has died. He passed away on monday night in my arms after his cancer spread to his brain. He’d been deteriorating for a week or so, and had been getting very confused about why he couldn’t do things, and frustrated. But, he had a good day on monday and came to the field with me, eyed the chickens suspiciously from a distance, tried stalking a herd of bullocks that are now in an adjacent field, and chased falling leaves. But then, after a big bowlful of chicken and a snooze on his favourite newspaper he started fitting which was incredibly distressing to watch and was clearly distressing for him. We rushed him to the vets but unfortunately there was nothing they could do for him and so we had to make the horrible decision of having him put down.
He was such an incredible cat, with a great personality and very affectionate despite his penchant for rodent murdering! He was 13 years and 2 months, and fortunately for 13 years and 1 month of his life he had been active and happy and able to do all the things he loved to do: eat (particularly things he shouldn’t – even on saturday night he tried to eat our curry!); catch voles and rabbits in the garden (and once even a mole!); eat the things he had caught (with the exception of the mole which fought back!); help us with our work by sitting on the keyboard, on bits of paper we were reading and even on pile of sharp flint that I had been analysing; lie in the most inconvenient places possible, his favourites being the kitchen doorway and the second step down from the top of the stairs; lie on my knee; mooch for food whenever I was cooking and all the other things that made up his daily routine of Harvey fun.
I’d had him since he was 4 weeks old and so tiny he could comfortably sit on the palm of my hand. He was very much my cat, and was incredibly loyal, and would often follow me up to the field or around the garden. He was the most well-travelled cat I’ve ever known, living with me in Cardiff, Salisbury, London, Warminster, Caithness, Edinburgh and finally here at Cwm Cottage.
In every place he made sure that the local wildlife knew who was boss, and would immediately want to go outside and survey his new territory as soon as we arrived at our new home. The wildlife here at Cwm Cottage can breathe easy again, although we have buried him near to his favourite mousing spot so he can forever keep an eye on his favourite prey.
I miss his terribly, but am so glad that he was my cat and that we had so many good times together. I have so many happy memories of him and the great and full life that he led.
Rest in peace my gorgeous little pussy cat.
