Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Our cat Grommet (Grommy) is not well. We don't think we'll have him for much longer. He's a cat in a million; no I really mean that. Even people who don't like cats, somehow always like Grommy. He's a real character, people say. He loves people and people love him. He's one of those cats that 'talk'. You can have a real back and forth conversation (cat-chat) with him. Anything going on - he's right there in the thick of it. Cutting a hedge, felling a tree (Robert will never forget how once when he was in the middle of cutting down a tree, Grommet was busy climbing it), collecting the mail, cooking tea, going out in the car ... Grommy will be there too, if he's allowed. However, as I said, he's not well. He's on his way out. 16 years old in human years; 112 years in cat years - not a bad run. We'll miss the way he followed us round, the way he flopped down any old where; on your feet if he could. We'll miss his way of engaging with people. We are getting our roof fixed next week. If Grommy was well he'd really be interested. But not being well, I doubt he'll care now. I doubt he'll even be still here, under the roof with us. He's had a good life. Thank you Grommet. You will not be forgotten.
P.S. I wrote the above yesterday - today we had our favourite cat in the world put down. He has been buried under the plum tree, down the bank of our property, next to Mike & Kate's dog Jedi. It was raining. R.I.P. dear old Grommy. There will never be another cat like you.