Goodbye to a friend

This was supposed to be a blog post about pizza, but the pizza was never made. The dough sat unused as something very unexpected and tragic occurred on Sunday. Instead this post is a farewell to a friend that I only introduced to you a week or so ago, but who I was lucky enough to share a home with for the last 3 years. Normal service will be resumed in a few days.

I got Gizmo from the cat’s protection league, when I visited him initially he was a small ginger cat being bullied by the other cats in the house. So I called him Gizmo after the Mogwai in Gremlins. For 3 years he’d follow me around first the flat and then the house when we moved out the road. Always willing to play, catch spiders and occasionally attack my legs.

Despite the occasional playful act of violence towards me Gizmo was the best tempered cat I’ve ever had. He never protested when handled or struggled too much when given medication and he even walked willingly into his cat box, assuming you caught him before he had a chance to run under the bed upon hearing it come out of the cupboard.

When we moved to Banchory it gave him the opportunity to get outside for the first time and he absolutely loved it. He seemed to claim most of the street as his territory and it wasn’t unusual to see him peering out from underneath a bush or sauntering across the road in the distance from the house. While his hunting wasn’t very successful (always kitten like he got too excited and would chirp and meow, giving his position away) he did gleefully spend a lot of time chasing moths, butterflies and bees around the garden. Even when it rained.

Unfortunately, just round the corner from home, Gizmo was hit by a car on Sunday and despite a vet who lives nearby being there within minutes, there was nothing that could be done for him.

I keep expecting to hear the catflap shut and his excited run into the living room, or hear him meow for attention as he wonders where I am in the house. To know he’s no longer going to be curled up on the bed, running down the stairs to meet me when I come home or jump in the car door if I arrive back when he’s outside makes me very sad indeed.

All the pets I’ve had in the past have died of illness or old age, it’s a massive shock to lose Gizmo so suddenly when he could have spent another 15 years in our lives. The only comfort I have is that we were both home when it happened and were able to see him at the scene and say goodbye at the vet’s surgery shortly after.