If March 2014 was the month of new beginnings, with a new job for me, April was a month for endings. On 1 April the lovely little black and white cat who thought she belonged to us even though she didn’t, was run over. Sadly, she died. She may not have actually been ours but we were all devastated.
2 April 2014
Yesterday evening a neighbour put a note through our door saying a black and white cat had been found and, unfortunately, had been run over. CJ was beside himself. We opened the gym door and called, we rattled the cat treat packet and Fluffy didn’t come running. The longer we waited the more sure we were that it must be her but there wasn’t much we could do because she’s not our cat.
In the end CJ went round to the house on the note to find out anyway. He came home clutching a cardboard box, with the kind neighbour who had found her behind him. She’d been found outside a house a few doors up. She was curled up in the box as if she was asleep, wrapped in an old sweatshirt. The only sign anything was wrong red blood on her white paws. Of course we took her round to Topol’s house. They took the box but didn’t seem to care very much.
Needless to say sleep did not come easy last night. All I could think about was Fluffy curled up in that box with her paws all bloody. She wasn’t our cat but she sneaked into our hearts in much the same way she sneaked through our bathroom window. She became a part of our day, scratching at the gym door to be let in, a little trill of a meow to say hello when you walked round the corner, popping up unexpectedly, a companion in the garden sleeping under the shrubs or sitting watching on the wall.
It’s hard to believe she won’t be scratching at the gym door anymore. Every morning, as soon as one of us got up she was there peering through the window, her ears twitching. She had such a pretty little face and a lovely nature. It will be a very sad house for a while I think.
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