Tears...

Today’s post brought with it a mixture of emotions, this lovely card from the vet containing Toffee’s tiny paw prints, and more correspondence addressed to Mum that then had to be dealt with, notifying organisations of Mum’s passing. On top of that, and the cold dark foggy weather, received upsetting news from other quarters, which made today a very difficult day...

Anybody who has ever owned and loved a pet, will know that they aren’t just an animal, they are a member of the family. Added to this, Toffee’s back story might explain why losing her is so difficult for me. Read on if you would like to know more. No offence taken if you don’t.

Toffee was a semi-feral rescue cat, living wild on allotments in Merthyr Tydfil with her two kittens, before she was trapped and then rehomed by a local animal charity. It was estimated that she was between one and two years old, as apparently this was the second litter of kittens she’d had while living wild on the allotments. She was very poorly, suffering with cat flu which would then flare up throughout her life.

For the first two months of her life with me she lived under the bed and I spent hours each day lying on the floor, talking to her gently, trying to coax her out of hiding. She very slowly became less timid and I was then able to move her basket to under my desk where I could nurse her through the cat flu, and where she hid for a further month, before one cold night I was woken by her softly jumping on to my bed where she then snuggled up to me. And where she then slept every day and night for many more months.

It was longer still before she was confident enough to let other people get anywhere near her, but she placed her trust fully in me and would let me do anything. I’ve had cats for most of my life but Toffee was something special. She was the most gentle, sweetest and loving cat you could ever find. She was a great comfort to me for the last 13 years, especially throughout the last three very difficult years. She could always sense when I was upset or unwell, and would try and get as close to me as possible as if to comfort me. Every vet she ever met said she was the perfect patient, everybody who ever met her said how beautiful she was. And now every other minute I keep expecting to see her little fluffy head popping out from her basket. The difficult times continue and she’s not here to comfort me...

Thank you so much for your kind support.