Goodbye Speckles...
Today I am working behind Pond Cottage. There's a small path I want to clear. And I want to concentrate on Speckles my stray cat, to see if a) I can miraculously sense his presence or b) find his body. Speckles is seriously missing, presumed dead. Am very sorry.
Goodbye Speckles
Two weeks ago, on my way over to the cottage, Speckles stopped me in Pond Paddock. He was in a dreadful state - circling around and around in a tight circle, hissing continuously. His behaviour suggested to me a serious head or brain injury. Possibly a stroke?
Speckles R.I.P
He did eat his food (very slowly) and drank his milk, but I haven't seen him since. I've looked for him. No sign. I have no sense of his presence anymore.
Beginnings and endings...
Speckles didn't have a proper beginning in my life. After many months of being an invisible food thief hiding we started our 'physical' relationship on the cottage verandah. And so his ending will be the same, with no proper, definite closure. I'll never know what actually happened. But then I never knew how old he was, or where he went, anyway...
Nearly five years...
I've enjoyed nearly five years of his rather erratic, hissy company. Am blessed that at the end he still turned up to connect with me. Rest easy, Speckles. We both did our very best to be friends. And what about that magic morning when you actually purred? Even if it was just for five seconds... Small, irreverent thought - I hope you are not quietly composting underneath my cottage. Oops...
Oak Leaves in the Pond Paddock
Back to the present. I plan to bonfire everything, adding dried Phormium leaves. And, thinking about leaves, I might start raking the Pond Paddock leaves, getting them ready to be bagged up. Great plans.
Four hours later...
That small path? Cleared almost half of it, brought out four barrowloads of mess, had to reroute it around some Acanthus, got as far as the largest, scruffiest gum tree. No sign (or smell) of Speckles. Have accepted that he is gone.
Scruffy Behind the Cottage
Apres bonfire etc, relaxed on a train journey across Norway - mid-summer, everything so beautifully green. Red Fred arrived for a cuddle, showed me his tummy (his fur has regrown). Over to bed in the cottage, and immediately ginger Foxie (my other stray cat) sneaked onto the verandah for his meal. Foxie and I haven't sat together yet for a wee chat about the appropriate etiquette.
And so the circle of cat life turns.