Saying goodbye

Cats, cats, cats

Lola, my writing companion and latterly sleeping partner

To misquote Oscar Wilde: ‘To lose one cat is unfortunate, but to lose two begins to look like carelessness.’ This kept going through my head over the last couple of weeks.

Within a month both my cats died. Lola was 19, Little Fatty was 18. Both very old for cats. And suddenly I’m on my own completely, with no one to look after and no companions, for the first time since my early twenties. And stuck at home with this arthritic hip. Moan, moan, moan! It’s so much harder than I would’ve thought. But it’s grief, friends say. You have to expect to feel sad. Be kind to yourself. With Lola I just cried, for days and then stopped. Still sad, but it was cathartic. Little Fatty seemed very lost too and soon became ill. For the last week I was tempting him with food, then, when he stayed in his basket, tempting him with water. It was very sad. But also a privilege, to nurse a dying animal. Strangely it reminded me of when you have a new baby in the house - a kind of deep stillness. The preciousness of a small life ending or beginning.

So, only a month later I had to call on friends to help me on another trip to the vet with Little Fatty. I’ve felt lost but very frustrated and angry. Is it because now I only have myself to look after and with NHS waiting lists and staff shortages I feel I’m having to wait for other people to solve problems. Having to wait, while gradually becoming more crippled, is very frustrating.

Little Fatty with my first novel, One Scheme of Happiness.

But I keep on writing, reading and knitting. Talking to friends and family. Some gardening - snipping things, tying in new growth on roses, pulling out weeds. In my own little world like The Lady of Shallot, weaving on my loom and viewing a small piece of the world in my mirror (as in Tennyson’s poem). Hopefully I’ll be able to escape without being cursed! I’d prefer something more prosaic like meeting an orthopaedic consultant and getting some treatment!

Lola

I was brought up with dogs on the whole, but have always been more a ‘cat person’ and have had a series of cats since we lived and worked in Stranraer, Scotland. I like the independence of cats. Dogs are too needy. I couldn’t find any pictures of our first cat, Sammy, but the rest are here. All in pairs. So no cats at all is very sad. My house feels too quiet.

Little Fatty - he could sleep in the oddest places

Joe with Wally and Spits (born in a caravan in Stranraer - cats not my son)

Martha holding Dice

and her own cat, who went by Princess Kitty or Princess Fluffy

But when I’m well again - will I get another? I’ve kept all the cat paraphernalia, but luckily was able to give away all the food to a pet charity, The Mayhew, based in Willesden, and to a neighbour. Apparently we’re coming in to kitten season! But I need time to remember, before I think about another one.

Thank you for reading my Substack dear readers. Happy Easter!

love, Ali x