Even a cat has only nine lives, and my sister's cat Sophie has finally used up all of hers. According to my sister, Sophie went through most of them in the first six months, but she still survived to be nineteen.
Even at a great age she was capable of climbing on to the roof, falling off (nobody would have known if she hadn't fallen past the window), righting herself, and strolling into the house as if nothing had happened. Trying to knit anywhere near her was not on, unless you wanted chewed wool and a tangled cat. Quite recently, though she was growing thinner and her coat was beginning to look rough, she'd still go out for a spot of mousing.
For the last few weeks, she's mostly been sleeping by the fire, and her health was slowly failing. Now long winter for Sophie Jane this year. She died very peacefully and painlessly in her mummy's arms. It will be strange to go to the house and not see her there. She has been such a reliable little figure for so long.
Darling girl, there will be one corner of Northumberland that is forever Sophie's.
3 comments:
Nineteen years...what a nice, full piece of time to have shared with an animal friend!
Sophie reminds me of "my" companion, Cupcake...who seems to own us! At ten, she is going strong as a barn cat, with a complete set of teeth and still-bright green eyes.
Condolences...
It sounds as though she had a very long, happy life. Nineteen... wow.
Thank you both for your kind comments. I like 'strong as a barn cat!' For the last nine years Sophie was a country cat, which I think was very good for her health. One of the local barn cats gradually moved into the cottage, too, but Sophie was always the boss.
Last I heard, there had been a visit to Cat Rescue. Watch this space!
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