I got a quietly desperate message from a friend this morning asking when I was home. Her cat, Nofret, who I wrote about here is seriously ill. A pretty tabby with striking white paws, he has been her cat for seventeen years, joining her when he was a tiny kitten, too young to be separated from his mother.
I called her and learned that Nofret is seriously ill. He has had blood tests and has thyroid and liver problems. She is speaking to the vet later; the same vet she introduced me to with Freddy all those years ago, the same vet she drove me to a year ago when Freddy died, the same vet who has been attending Nofret all his long life. She and her husband are not hopeful. Nofret’s days, maybe his hours, are numbered.
Listening to her tearful voice, I am reminded again of how much it hurts when we lose a loved pet. How and why so many people say, ‘never again’, because they cannot face that hurt. I call NotCat Freddy’s legacy. Freddy was in part Nofret’s legacy. Nofret’s biscuits were the first food Freddy had in my home. When Nofret stayed with another friend for two weeks she loved him so much that she adopted two tabbies when she reluctantly handed him back. The legacies of loved pets carries on to eternity. The memories of them that we continue to share; the pets that we have because of them; the people who have smiled to see them; the days they have brightened.