Unfortunately on Thursday last week one of our two cats was poisoned (hopefully accidentally) with anti-freeze and died of her illnesses within a few hours. I was away at the time so unfortunately Sarah experienced the worst of it, however I made a quick trip back from Wales for a few hours to go to see her to say goodbye the following day.
The vets had done a wonderful job of making her look very peaceful – curled up as if she was asleep, but a little cold, so we tucked her little blanket over her and under her chin before we left.
The rally I was on in Wales at the time kept me quite shielded and separated from everything, but now that I’m back home in Birmingham its a little bit more real and devastating. We are getting by together at home with Mits (the other cat) to keep us company, but (as sad as it may seem) not having children (yet) and with all of my family being quite far away in Yorkshire the cats were a very significant part of our lives.
I take some solace that she was a very loved cat, and wanted for nothing (in fact was probably spoilt a little most of the time) but she grew into a very friendly, kind, cute (and knew how to work it to her advantage) little cat with no aggression in her at all (to her loss at times, as she would never defend her turf, her tactics were to either cuddle something or run away). She feels to have been taken away far too early at only 2.5 years old, but they were a wonderful 2.5 years that we will never forget.
We have decided to have her cremated and keep her ashes in a little box adorned with her photograph so that we can always keep her with us.
I still find myself looking around the house for her, or glancing across the road to where she used to lay under the bushes – but there is no face looking back anymore. We always worried about her with cars really – as she would instantly run across the road to meet us when we got home from work – they both recognise the car now, so spot us coming down the lane. So its quite lucky that we live on a moderately quiet cul-de-sac.
Anyway, I won’t go into a lot more detail in this (what seems to have turned out to be a lament) as it’s still very difficult for me to talk or write much about.

It still hurts me to think about how undeserving (and early) an ending this was to a life that was so innocent and kind. She was a very loving cat – even with strangers, and would never hiss at people or try to scratch, but nearly always smile at them and roll over for them to pet her. She always purred – and had one of the loudest purrs I’ve ever heard - you could hear her from the other side of the living room. Very trusting (possibly too much so), very loving, and very tuned into our emotions. She knew whenever either Sar or I were upset and would go into cuteness overdrive and never leave your side. She grew up as (very much) a daddy’s girl, and would always follow me around and rub up against me. Now daddy’s little girl has gone away and there was nothing I could do to save her. It left me feeling so helpless. She used to come to me when she was worried or afraid of something and I could protect her (or usually joke with her about how lame she would be for running away from a very minor thing) and pick her up and make things better. – Like get her to a vet and cure her when she had cystitis. But I couldn’t do anything to save her from this. I wasn’t even around for her at the end. And that does grate on my memory quite a lot. Luckily Sarah could be with her at the end however, so she didn’t die alone. I got to come back the next evening to go to see her body and say goodbye. I never wanted to leave the room. I didn’t want to leave her there. She doesn’t like being alone – she always likes to be close to us, even when she is in an independant ‘bit of space’ mood she’d always keep within sight of us and would generally sit on the stairs. I can’t think of any cat less deserving of being taken so soon. She deserved a very long, wonderfully happy life for all that she gave to others.

Goodbye Tosca. We’ll love you forever and you will never be forgotten. Thank you for every second we had with you and how much brighter you made our lives. I hope you find peace and happiness.

Rest in peace our beautiful, kind, loving, little girl.