Isn't it strange how much we invest emotionally in our pets? Even those we don't have for long seem to find a way into our hearts.
I've just been told that my darling puss, Tomkin, is dead - killed, like so many in this area, on the road.
I'd only had Tomkin for 6 months but in that time he had managed to finagle himself into my heart, and we had spent many an hour in perfect accord, with Tomkin sitting in my arms, purring away, and soothing me while in the depths of pain.
He always knew when I was really bad and, like any good friend, would come to me and offer his not-so-silent support, his purrs an indicator to the amount of pain I was in.
I got Tomkin through a good friend of my daughter, and he was already 6 months old when he came to my home. Unfortunately, he had a feral mother, and took after her in hunting for much of his food so that, by the time he came to me, he was fairly set in his ways.
I think it was only the fact that the weather was so bad over the winter, that he had stayed in as long as he did but, at the first hint of Spring in the air, he was raring to go outside and discover what was about, and ready to be hunted.
It was this urge, unfortunately, that was the end of him.
Rest in Peace my dear catrade!