Today I miss one of my old cats. Writing this has made me remember all the good times with him, so whilst it is a sad post it is also one with lovely pictures and memories of a much-loved feline.
Recently organising some photos on my flickr page I came across the pets album. Sadly most of the animals in it are no longer here. Even though I have had many Guinea Pigs over the years it’s still hard when they go, even worse in the case of Tufti who we had not had long when a fox got her. With cats it is worse again, the cats interact with us more whether on laps, sleeping on the bed or playtime. There have been a few cats we rescued knowing they did not have long left, this made it easier when the time came as we were prepared. When our beautiful Misty died however it was a big shock.
Misty, a grey and white mix, was rescued by us in 2000 with his tabby sister Marzipan. They had lived with one owner their entire lives and never gone outside. On his first day at our house Misty decided to do something about this and somehow shot out the back door! According to our neighbour he did some laps round their garden, had a run in with the local top cat and then cowered in the shed awaiting rescue. Despite the fact he had a heart murmur he was a very active cat and became a great lover of the garden. Amazingly he managed to get along with all of our other cats (some where real loners), in fact there a very few photos of him where he is not with one of them. Misty, Marzipan and Tinker our tortoiseshell became the trio, you could almost guarantee to find them cuddled up on my bed in the afternoons.
Of all of the cats I have ever known Misty had the loudest meow, he also enjoyed rubbing his face in shoes and rolling around with glee after, pawing me in the face as a wake up call and extreme kneading with his claws – legs, knees, back, anything. We always had a suspicion Misty was Gay, he would follow our black tom around looking sad and later cuddle up with the girls as if one of them. Misty also loved high-heeled glamorous shoes the best – he always would roll around far more after an encounter with a glitzy one than a loafer.
One morning in 2009 my mum found Misty under a chair, it looked as if he had thankfully died in his sleep. The previous day he had been outside, eating as usual and of course later cuddled up with Marzipan and Tinker. When I went to sleep the three of them were on the end of the bed, I can only surmise he slipped downstairs at some point to be alone at the end. Misty was 14 when he went, not a bad age but still too young. Marzipan and Tinkers friendship intensified afterward and it was a real relief try were there for each-other.
To this day, four years on, when I go to mums house I half expect to see him cuddled up with the girls or following Lovejoy in the garden. Misty was a very special cat, one I feel honoured to have known and loved. Whilst there have been new cats come into my life since there is always a place reserved for his memory.