A Sad Goodbye

I had a blog post planned for this weekend. It was going to be lovely: in it I was going to tell you about the sense of peace and real happiness that came over me this last week; a real feeling of rightness that I haven’t felt before. Not contentment, that is something I am not so good at, but happiness: yes.

Firstly, I was going to tell you about submitting my first assignment for my creative writing course… on time! OK, I stayed up till midnight the day before but I work well under pressure and always have: nothing like a looming deadline to get those words flowing. Competing my first short story, from seed thought through the research and exploration process through to finished piece, was one of the most exhilarating experiences I’ve had in a long time. I was quite breathless by the end, the story building and twisting till finally those few last words came tumbling out. And the best thing? I love it. I love what I wrote. Those of you that read this blog know that doesn’t happen very often. I don’t even really care about the mark to be honest. I just want to write some more.

Then I was going to tell you about the Great Toy Guide, about how well it is doing, with mentions in two national papers in the last week and on the Asda website. About all the great features we are working on, about the sense of purpose it’s given me and how much I’m enjoying it, despite the fact that dealing with PRs sometimes makes my head feel like it might implode.

And then, finally, I was going to tell you about Kai. My beautiful boy who is now walking like a pro and at every given opportunity. And not only walking but squatting, twisting, bending down, falling over and getting back up again; working into a little shuffling run and swerving round corners in a way that makes smile every time.  About our week of playing in the winter sunshine, and treats of hot chocolate and cream scones, shared just between the two of us and we grin and chat in a language no one else would understand. I might even have mentioned the fact that the night before last he finally, blissfully and inexplicably, decided to sleep from 7pm to 7am with only one brief wake up at midnight.

I was going to tell you about all those things. In excited, enthusiastic tones.

But then, on Friday, as most of you know due to the overwhelming number of lovely, sympathetic messages I received on Twitter, I finally had to say goodbye to my precious old cat Beth. So this is not the happy post I had planned.

I am really trying not to be too sad. Beth was 18 years old; she had had a long and comfortable life, much loved and much cherished. She didn’t suffer, having just one morning of very quickly going down hill as her kidney’s failed, but then being put to sleep as I held and stroked her, falling away so quietly and peacefully with no pain and no distress.

But she has been my little shadow for 18 years. She has watched me turn from 10 year old girl, to stroppy, rebellious teenage; she was there as Ant and I first began our relationship, moving with us as we moved into our first house, watching me through years of illness and recovery, through pregnancy and the introduction of a brand new little person into our household.

I shall miss her. Tremendously.

So I leave you with memories of Beth.

Of me, in my wisdom, falling in love with the runt of the litter of kittens we went to view for my 10th birthday and insisting she was the one for me.  Her as a teeny tiny scrap of kitten who had to be drop fed milk; surviving cat flu, swallowing a whole needle and thread and having it removed from her stomach, and mysteriously disappearing for nearly a fortnight before arriving back home, timidly peeping from behind the back door: I can still see her little scared face as we tempted her back.

So vividly I remember watching her bravely stalk a mouse across our front garden, only for the mouse to turn, raise up on it’s hind legs and chatter at her ferociously as she  almost fell over herself in her rush to get away. I kid you not.

My girl, who was never once vicious or nasty, submitting to cuddles like a newborn baby with a deep purr like a cement mixer. Who went slowly do-lally in her old age, forgetting where she was and when she had last eaten and turning into the epitome of a cranky old lady who just wanted to sleep and have her meals served on time.

And watching her with Kai. Kai, who loved to sit and stroke her with the most gentle, loving touch you could imagine, and twist her ears like a transistor radio in a way that was a little less gentle yet still met with only purrs and indulgent, half-closed eyes. Kai, who chose this week of all weeks to learn how to say her name and now points to every cat with excited cryies of ‘BU BU’ or ‘ETH’.

Yesterday we laid her to rest in my mum’s beautiful garden, under an Azalea bush named ‘blue tit’. My scrawny girl, who couldn’t have caught anything if her life depended on it, has finally got her bird.

Night, night sweet girl. We will never forget you.

xxx

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