New Beginnings

So I have my glass of wine; a lit candle stands in the window; MasterB who was curled up beside me has gone outside.

If Freddy hadn’t died, I shouldn’t have MasterB. A death marks not just an end, but a new beginning.

I have long called MasterB Cat’s Legacy. Before Freddy adopted me I was A Dog Person; I had no intention and no desire to have a cat.

Fourteen years after having my life turned upside down by a determined feline, the idea of living sans cat was just unthinkable.

So as well as remembering the Gorgeous Boy today, I am giving thanks for MasterB; a new life, a new relationship with my perfect companion cat; loved, cherished, as dear to me as Freddy.

And it’s spring. How could anyone fail to be glad?

I visited Celia at the allotment this afternoon and took some pictures.

My ‘phone buzzed and I hurried back to the flats. A family had come to meet Cookie. By the time I arrived, the introductions had been made and Cookie was playing happily with the young boy. Edwin and Rebecca had already asked the questions about gardens and catflaps, company, experience with cats, visiting rights, and were happy with the answers.

Cookie stays with them until after Easter, but her new family will come again and see her in the garden.

And then, we hope, everyone involved will live happy ever after.

What a wonderful way to celebrate Freddy’s memory. Had he lived he would be twenty-one. But seventeen is a good age for a cat, and his death was sudden, not after a long drawn out illness. I should have hated to see him fade slowly and painfully.

So soon I shall raise my glass to him, toast his life and his memory, the joy he brought, not just to me; he was voted the favourite cat of mothers’ and toddlers’ in the neighbourhood; Mother was so proud that he regarded her home as his, and would walk from my car up her garden path and in through the catflap to greet her.

To Freddy: one in a million.

16 thoughts on “New Beginnings

  1. Every pet has a personality that makes them stand out. That said…some really are one in a million. A kelpie that shared my life for 17 years was like that. The ex…who I never agree on anything with are united in our opinions of sweet Tia. While I adore Chevvy, Charlie & Jack and have loved Katie and Crash since Tia left…there will never be another Tia. Of that I am sure. She opened my heart in ways I never knew were possible, in ways that I am sure benefited those that followed her. She taught me about real love, about unconditional love & acceptance, about patience. There is not one day that goes by [after 11 years] that I don’t think of her and miss her calm presence and sweet-natured loving. If ever an animal were brought in to this world to teach…it was my Tia. And I will always be grateful she found her way to me and mine, and that for 17 years I was lucky enough to share her life.

    • What I love about doing this Pet Remebrance Day is how people tell the stories about their pets, how it allows people to share their memories, their feelings when their loved pets died. it’s hard in today’s world to go to work and explain that you are heartbroken beacuse Bonzo or Tiddles has died. some people think you are certifiable to get upset over the death of a pet.
      Yet often our pets are a constant through difficult and sad periods in our lives; their presence sustains and supports us when things are tough. So of course when they die we feel loss and grief as we do for anyone we love.
      I love the fact that the only thing you and the ex agree on is Tia. What a bridge she has been.

      • She sure was and still is. Funny how every pet you have come in and share your life leaves something indelible upon your soul. Tia left her calm loving acceptance, Sep, his absolute love of life [and being the greatest living Houdini ever], the kids guinea pigs reduced me to howling tears when they passed, something I know some people found odd. Recently when I lost Crash, I was reminded how every pet has something that grabs hold of your heart. Sometimes you cannot explain it to others but they wind their personalities in to your life, and when they go [as sadly they do often, living so much shorter lives than us] the grief is real and intense. I still walk inside and miss the sheer noise that filled my home when Crash was still here.

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