saying goodbye

Regular readers will be familiar with our lovely Cat Chaps, Rum and Raisin. They came into our lives in late 2008, rescued from a very good RSPCA Center in Hastings. We had lost three cats in the previous couple of years and I had been sent out to find "just one female cat", but these brothers captured my heart and so became part of our family. They had been deserted when previous owners moved house and left them to fend for themselves. Raisin was quite extrovert, came out of their "pod" to see who I was and trotted about looking very cheerful; Rum was the shy one, refusing to come and perform, but when I put my hand carefully into the space where he was he let me stroke his head, very briefly, before ducking it away with a motion that became utterly familiar to me over time. It was his "not now, but maybe later" declaration of independence. I couldn't leave them there after that. 

Christmas in the menagerie window of daughter's old bedroom

Since they arrived we have moved house, coming to our current home after my Mum died in 2010, and they have appeared from time to time here as part of our happy lives. They found the advent of a much larger new garden rather overwhelming at first, especially as it was dusted over with frost and then snow in the first few weeks

Crikey, this needs a bit of a tidy up

But they soon settled in, and games of "cowboys and Indians" on the lawn, followed by exhausted luxuriating in the warm sun on the path, became a regular entertainment for us and them

a peaceful pause with paws

As all lovers of pets know, we only have them for a short time, and last week I had to take our beloved Rum to the vets for a final visit. He was very poorly and one always knows what the kindest course is when this happens, but the repetition of loss makes it no easier to bear. My daughter and I took him along, the Good Man being too upset to come this final time. All was done with great kindness and gentleness, and his leaving this earth was a quiet and peaceful passing. His death is a small and insignificant thing in the context of all the sadnesses that are happening in the world just now, but I found myself unable to come back to writing here without marking our loss. So this is to say "goodbye Rum", you were a very fine cat chap, warm and loving, always eager to be stroked and fussed and brushed, independent to the last and we miss you. We are so grateful for the joy and gentleness you brought to our lives. 

slumbering potted cat