Wilson Pearce: 7/7/05 - 19/10/15

I had Wilson put to sleep early this afternoon. He was very sick, there was no cure, with management the best outcome - if he had survived intensive care treatment. To have decided otherwise would have been about me, not him.

He was the best furry mate, friend, confidant and buddy I could have. Those amber eyes revealed a rich Burmese heritage, which made him special. The cat you have when you're not having a dog.

Wilson was 3 years old when I got him from the Cats Protection League, hence the date in the title shows the span of his life with me, not his age. He was coming up 14 years old. He taught me a lot about patience, acceptance, living in the moment, and unconditional love. He adored me and I him.

Wilson was the subject of many a blip, albeit reluctantly. He wasn't a fan of cameras. He was the very first blip I took nearly 7 years ago.

Wilson remained with me throughout the earthquakes. They terrified him but he never ran away. He stayed put under his blanket on the bed the morning of the 7.3 quake. I know because I was on the floor desperately trying to hold onto the bottom edge of the bed. I reached one arm up onto the bed and felt him still there.

We both lay on the couch downstairs sleepless the first night. He was on top of me, and I'd watch his ears pick up on the sound of an approaching quake before I knew it was on it's way. Each time he'd drop his head onto me. We gave each other a lot of mutual comfort throughout the years, and not just during the quakes.

I had a wonderful experiences with Wilson when my aunt, Bun, and later my Mum passed away. He came up to me as I lay on my bed crying, so close I viewed him from a fish-eye lens perspective.

He looked me intently in the eyes and then laid his cheek against mine. He lifted his tear soaked face, looked me again, and put his cheek back on mine. Thus we passed some time sharing my grief. Like I say, Wilson was special.

Wilson has outshone any man in my life during our time together (wry smile). He was friendly but a little stand-offish. It's true to say he was possessive of me :-)

He recognised and knew Mum and Dad, and enjoyed their visits. He had varying degrees of success expressing his affection :-) When I arrived at Mum's bedside nearly 2 years ago, she whispered "how's Wilson?". He wasn't well at the time and I told her I was concerned, but I'd told him he had to hang on as I couldn't part with them both. She told me as she had through all the distraught losses of cherished cats through my life, "there will always be another cat to love".

It wasn't to diminish the bond, but rather the hope of another - not a replacement, but another wee bundle of fur needing to be loved. In Wilson's case he entered my life a week after the loss of an equally special black cat, Amos/Mossy.

At the time a friend suggested getting another cat quickly was the best approach. I'd never done anything soon before but agreed to check out Wilson. The rest as they say is history. I grieved Mossy, and welcomed this new little guy into my life. It was the best thing I could ever have done.

My house feels empty, and my heart is broken. I hope Mum is indeed right about another cat to love.

Rest in peace little man. You were the best fur child.