A sad kick-start

It has been over 4 months since my last post (Oh no that sounds way too much like a confession for my liking) and although I have had a lot to write about I kind of lost my blogging mojo.  As the weeks turned to months it became more difficult to find the time and indeed the inclination to break back into my once weekly routine….

It’s been an interesting time and if I can get back into the swing of things I shall use the next few weeks to catch up on what we have been doing (don’t worry if you don’t enjoy  the catch-up , its probably more for me as my blog acts as a diary for Mrs B and me plus it helps keep my sister informed of what we have been up to….). The reason that I have finally broken the silence is to publish the sad news that our little black cat Mischief has reached the end of her life.  As sad as it makes me feel I could not let her passing go unmarked.  

 Almost 17 years old is a good age for a cat but in truth no time is long enough for a beloved pet.  It’s been hard for a number of reasons: Mischief  was so healthy for most of her life (if you don’t count the bouts of throwing up, that is.  If you are a cat owner you know it kind of goes with the territory). She was diagnosed as diabetic in January, which led me into a  whole new world of twice-daily injections (at times I felt like a drug pusher – but bless her she didn’t complain once) at set 12-hourly intervals.  It is no easy feat trying to fit precise insulin requirements into a busy schedule. She also started to suffer some bladder control problems (not unknown in diabetic cats)…..I learned a whole new level of patience and tolerance.   

 My favourite shot of Mischief
full of mystery...  

The problem when you are so close to a situation is that you become blind to reality. Mischief had good days and bad days but in truth she was heading in a downward spiral.  I guess I’m grateful that she slipped away quietly in her own time, I think I would have found it almost impossible to have taken her to the vets and made the decision to end it all.

The house is full of her memories at the moment and the sadness comes in waves…..I know it will lessen as time goes by but it still hurts.

The last shot of Mischief

sitting om Mrs B's Lap...

 Walking into the kitchen I miss her little face expectantly waiting for breakfast or dinner.  The way she would talk loudly to Mrs B (almost shouting) when she came home from work and her favourite sleeping places: now very much empty except for her memory. This is the only home that she had, arriving a few short days after we moved in.  She was a house-warming gift  from Mrs B’s parents, who rarely saw her after that first occasion.  She would vanish about an hour before they arrived and re-appear about an hour after they left….  

We were away for a long weekend in Barcelona when we got the dreaded call from our cat sitters. Despite giving Mischief  a fantastic life you always fear that you could have done more……

Her brother McG, who is pushing 19, is still going, admittedly not strong, but certainly with purpose.  He is the one cat that has been on a diet since he was 6 months old. He almost died when he was 7 when he got crystals in his bladder (sadly not the type you can sell for vast sums of money to cover the vets bill). He was given weeks to live three years ago by our previous vet, yet pulled through when I changed his diet.  Despite these trials, Mischief still managed to slip away before him...

 

Mischief

Sept 1997 - May 2014

 Much loved and very much missed

 

The last time Mischief hit the headlines