This is a tribute to my wonderful cat Winston who came into my life as a little ball of fluff In May 2004 and cruelly left it May 2007
having been hit by a car.
While he was only just 3 yrs old when he died he made a huge impact to my life. He was one of my best friends, a great character (I am sure he really thought he was a dog) , a constant companion and
I miss him terribly.
He was a cat that loved both the comfort of indoors, but the adventure of outdoors. In winter at night he would spend a few hours outside, but always come and sleep on the bed in the middle of the night. He would always jump up and come up and sit on the pillow demanding a cuddle and a stroke (always willingly given even though I was woken up) and then curl up half way down the bed snuggled up against me. In summer he was more allusive, but generally popped in early most morning for a little bit of fuss and a pat before I got up.
Every morning he knew there were jobs to be done and would come outside with me and to help feed the horses – He especially loved it when I gave them hay and would leap around as I shook the hay out on the ground. Often he would burrow into the pile of hay and one more than one occasion nearly gave a horse a heart attach by leaping out as he lowered his head to take a bite.
He loved the hay shed too and the more hay bales stacked up the better – He would jump to the very top of pile of bales of hay and peer down at me the king of the castle and refuse to come down. – until I left the shed when he would get scared at being alone and would jump down and come rushing out to find me.
He thought he was a dog and always wanted to come walking with the two real canines – but he would usually just get a little way down the road and get scared and sit down and start meowing until I turned around and took him home.
He would always be there when I came home from work and would walk up to me lifting his tail in the air in greeting. The tail was always used as a gesture of acknowledgment and if he was ever doing catty things in the garden and I called his name the tail would always go up to let me know he had heard me.
While he loved being stroked he wasn’t a lap cat. He would however, let me pick him up with his front legs and head resting over your shoulder. He would let you carry him around like that for a while and then he would always give a big stretch with his legs and then ask to get down.
As he got older he got less playful, but could always, without fail, be persuaded to chase a bit of bailing twine that was used on the hay bales.
He loved it when I hung out the washing and would always come and sit on the step and watch – and would usually try and get in the laundry basket – usually when still full of clothes !!
He was a long haired cat and one year during a hot summer I got him shaved. Even though he hated it and was scared he still rubbed himself against me for comfort while it was going on – Such was his trust in me.
He also had some scrapes – He got chased up a tree by wild dogs and couldn’t get down and I had to get a long ladder and climb up and get him down. Again such was his trust that he let me pluck him from the relative safety of the branch and let me carry him down the ladder. He got tick poisoning when 9 month old and nearly died – and of course he had to get ill in the middle of a Sunday night !!
He was also quite naughty and would claw the sliding wooden door into the lounge from outside if it wasn’t open and he wanted to come in – He felt the cat flap was beneath him while there were people around to open the door for him. The scratch marks are still there s a reminder of him. He would also get lonely sometimes and sit in the hall or outside our window and meow – unfortunately this was usually in the middle of the night. I used to have to get up. I had a spray bottle I was supposed to spray him with, but never could as he was always so delighted to see me – How could I spoil that happiness.
When he was 1 year old we got a Labrador puppy and he went into a decline for a few weeks and I felt awful at ruining his life. He started spending his whole life on high things looking down at horror at this black ball of energy. The ironing board became a permanent fixture on the lounge However, after a short while he got used to the puppy – However, the ironing board remained as he loved to sit their and view what was happening. In fact my last memory of him is of him sitting on the ironing board.
All in all he was my companion and my friend. He has only been gone a week and I find myself constantly looking for him as he was my shadow when I was outdoors doing jobs.
I miss you so much and will always remember you
| Winston |
| Kate |