It was a quiet evening last night.
Herself was in bed watching a film. I was in the uncomfortable chair in her room half watching the same film. There is only one television in there so I am stuck with Herself’s viewing choice.
Cat came sauntering in. He jumped up on the bed, did the usual kneading of the bedclothes with his hole planted firmly in Herself’s face, and then stretched out to his full length on the bed, purring happily.
Penny then wandered in. She sniffed the cat, and the cat reciprocated by sniffing her in return. Penny then curled up on the floor under my chair, with a sigh of satisfaction.
It was a scene of domestic bliss.
Then Cat made a noise. At first I thought he was about to attack Penny – it was a sort of growl that I hadn’t heard before. He looked a bit strange too – a sort of wide-eyed look. I got up, went over and checked him.
Cat had departed this world and fucked off to cat heaven. Just like that. No advance warning or anything like that. I suppose it was fairly typical of him. He never asked permission to do anything and just went his own way with no apologies.
He was only with us for a few short years but they were really happy years. He ruled the entire neighbourhood and woe betide anyone who challenged him. He ruled the Manor too. He appropriated the entire Old House, with his own balcony where he slept and a dayroom with two beds. He grudgingly gave me permission to use my own bedroom. I seemed to spent my days letting him in or out or feeding him. He was a demanding little fucker.
I miss him already.