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.