There's one less visitor to The House of Stories. We won't be seeing my mate Jack no more.
We never did see 'im all that often because he were a well-mannered gentleman what didn't impose 'is company on anyone, but he'd pop in now and again just to say 'ello and see 'ow I were settling in. 'E introduced me to any 'edgehogs what were about, and the birds, too, 'cause 'e didn't go chasing after 'em like most cats would. Jet black with a shiny coat, was old Jack. Missus were always saying what a nice cat he were. Didn't make a fuss, but didn't run off either if you stopped to say 'ello. 'E used to like a bit of a sprawl in the sunshine, and don't we all.
Poor old Jack went out on the prowl on Saturday night and they found 'im on the road, Sunday morning. Bloomin' cars! If we all rode around on snails we wouldn't 'ave this problem. Never 'eard of no-one getting run over by a gnome on a snail, do you? But poor old Jack. 'Er doesn't 'alf miss 'im.
'Er even said something about getting a rescue cat. Dunno what 'er's thinking, 'er can't get 'er act together as it is, without some blooming moggy waiting round the corner to trip 'er up and doing its business on 'er garden. I says to 'er, not all cats are as nice as old Jack, and what would you do when you and Tony are away from 'ome? Can't expect me to feed it, I says. Jack was all very well but he belonged to the folks across the road, they were the ones what were always 'aving to feed him and wash 'is dishes and let him out and in again. And what about the birds? And what, I asked her, what do you think Hamilton would have to say about it?
So, if you're visiting The House of Stories, keep shtum. Don't mention cats, and with any luck she'll forget all about it.
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Sorry to hear about Jack. Losing an animal is one of the worst things anyone can go through.
I have three cats at home, all black and white (coincidence, not by design). Shenanigan, Princess Jasmine, and Mickey...Shamrock and Princess Belle live outside, in the woods.
Shenanigan is anything but what her name implies. She's shy and skittish, and only graces you with her presence when you are just falling asleep and she decides that your back is the most appropriate bed in the house.
Princess Jasmine was a rescue, along with Princess Belle (who decided that she was born free, and moved outside almost immediately). Jasmine is a normal cat. Playful when she wants to be, sleeping most other times. She is missing half of one ear...a result of spending the first few weeks of her life on the tough city streets, I guess.
Mickey lives up to his wild Irish name. The youngest of the bunch, born only last year, Mickey is a handful. The cat never stops moving, except to eat, which he does like no other cat I've ever known. He once ate 1/3 of a pan of baked ziti. We found him, round as a bowling ball, lying on the counter. He's a great cat though. Very playful and resilient - the girls often carry him by the tail (or the head, or the ears...) and he just goes with it.
To add to the menagerie, I have two dogs. One is a Jack Russell Terrier named Kiva, and the other is a golden retriever named Zoey. One never stops running, jumping, and barking. The other is as dumb as a box of rocks.
It's no wonder that saying goodbye is so hard, when we talk about them like people.
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