Eccles, my cat, passed away sometime during the night, he was getting on for 16 years old and his bits just gave up the ghost.
I’m totally devastated, I thought any tears I had were all used up but not a bit of it., I’ve cried buckets and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
He was just a small rascal when I found him on my doorstep one winters night, brought him in, warmed him, found a box that had at one time contained eccles cakes, hence his name, and made him as comfy as possible.
I remember the day after I found him, he stumbled from room to room, obviously found the place satisfactory and promptly took over the house and me.
He was a lovely cat, didn’t show much affection and would not tolerate any other cats in or around his domain plus he hated dogs.
He wasn’t one of those cats that go hunting at night and bring back their kill just to show you how clever he was. He much prefered to fish out my socks from the laundry basket, drag them into the lounge and proceed to beat 'em up.
So I’ve taken off his collar and I’ll give him a decent burial in the back garden underneath the shrub he spent a good time of his life sleeping.
I’m sorry for your loss, chowder. Sometimes it’s hard to explain how much of hole those little fuzzbutts leave behind them when they leave. Eccles sounds like a real character, and he was obviously very lucky to have turned up in the right place, sounds like he had a great life for a cat.
Good luck finding a new kitten, I’m sure Bast will send someone along soon.
I just got back from the vets, they have no kittens in at present so I left my phone number and they’ll call me as soon as they get some in or hear of anyone with any.
eleanor. Do you honestly think I’d be so heartless as to bury him where those evil buggers are?. The gnomes are in the front and Eccles is out back.
In many ways he was a strange cat, never chased birds, just viewed them with a complete lack of interest. Matter of fact the only time I ever saw him get annoyed is when I brought a kitten into the house last year, he went totally batshit until I took the kitten back, then peace one more descended upon the chowder domain.
Sounds like, for a freezing abandoned winter kitten, he didn’t have such a bad life after all. And now he’s gone where all the lost socks go, I guess he’ll find plenty to beat up.
My habit before I go to bed is to open the back door just to take a few gulps of the night air.
The night I found Eccles there was another kitten also on the step but unfortunately this one had already died. If I’d only opened that door maybe an hour earlier.
