Marjory Frauts (marjory) wrote,
Marjory Frauts
marjory

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Tribute

We only had her for 14 months and 11 days, not nearly long enough. The last part of her life was excruciating, horrible, sad, but that was not her, not the only part that counts and defines her. This is how I want to remember her.

Eccentrically pulling the litter scoop over the tray when she was done, as she presumably thought that was what one did in this domicile.

Getting excited when I touched the teapot or brought the milk bottle through because that meant she might get milk. I ended up putting some in a ramekin for her in the living room and she liked to come in from morning patrol and drink it. If it wasn't there, she would give me a long-suffering look, go out again and then bound back into the living room to make it appear.

Tablet time when she would know to come and ask me for her paté or cheese. She would give me a smile and let me stroke her ears until the treat appeared.

The way her eyes went round, shining and boggly when she was excited or being cheeky.

The breakfast blitz when she would mug us every morning and get over-excited and start play-fighting, even swatting the moulding on the bath panel when we had to go to the bathroom first. This tended to start with her rubbing her face and eye teeth against our hands, time to back off!

The purposeful expression she got on her face when she went out to supervise operations such as the taking out of the wheelie bins and the watering of the plants. It was her 'duty' and also involved the side gate being open, which she seemed to love.

The determined expression on her face if she wanted to climb a fence to go patrolling, to explore the woods out back or to see what on earth the neighbours were doing.

Hilarious chagrin when anyone moved the cushions on her couch.

The need to inspect every cupboard or drawer when it was opened, to inspect every shelf, nook and cranny as it occurred to her. She was latterly fascinated by the outdoor drain at the back and the watering can.

Being reserved and then suddenly deciding she really rather adored our guests. Such a tart, that cat!

Silent miaowing and the occasional out loud one when something was particularly pressing. Mostly she purred, purred, purred with different purrs according to her mood.

Accompanying us up the road, generally a few paces behind so she could pretend she wasn't with us but keep an eye on us at the same time.

The way that she was Definite Puss.

Helping out in the garden, pretending to be not especially interested at first and then excitedly zooming to where weeds were being pulled or holes being dug so she could inspect what was going on and/or sit in the place.

Kitteh nests and chosen sleeping spaces. She spent several months determined that dr_mitch's chair was hers and finding ways to shove him out of it. My chair was, apparently, hers at night. She had great stubbornness and knowledge of leverage.

Attacking her catnip mice, Mr. Snake and ping-pong balls.

Deciding that once you were sat on, you were going to remain so. If you moved too much, she would subdue your lap again, use your hand as a pillow or pin it down with a decisive paw.

The look of puzzlement if we stopped stroking her and the beatific, indulgent twinkling when she felt that all was right with the world and we were alright really.

Never being ill-tempered even when she was ill. She rarely got startled by anything and was chilled and serene. She was essntially good, sunny and eager to please.

The furious little face if we had both gone out for a couple of hours or failed to let her in precisely when she wanted. She soon forgave us if we made a fuss of her, the madam!

The thump-ting-thump-ting of her coming down the stairs or the thump when she came back over the gate onto the bins after she had been out.

Her beautiful coat with red, black, silver tabby, brown tabby, salt and pepper, brown and rosettes on a background of white. Even her tail couldn't make up its mind whether it was stripey or gingery, so it was both! Her fur was so very soft and fluffy and her eyes were a pretty green.

Trying to run past the wind and hating the snow and rain.

So much more mischief, naughtiness, fun, cleverness, cussedness and contentment. I could go on longer and that is heartening.

The Sandy-cat







28th June, 1995 – 8th September, 2010

Sleep well, Your Majesty. We'll see you again and know you will never truly be gone.

No regrets, my love.

Thank you to everyone for your kind wishes. I will get around to answering the comments. It is all much appreciated.
Tags: sandy
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  • 16 comments

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