Sleep Tight, Daffy.

This is not the post that I had planned for today, that one is written and waiting to be shared with you, but sometimes life gets in the way and plans have to change.

This morning we had to say goodbye to one of our beloved cats.

Daffy in the garden as a youngster.

Daffy arrived in the garden as a kitten six years ago, feral and wary. Together with an older cat, (Dilly), he would wait for me to bring food but would never let me near him. Months later I was able to touch him, and then he moved in.

He was always around, he was the one cat who seldom ventured past the front door, unless I hauled out the vacuum or strangers arrived. Then he would streak out of the door like black lightning, only returning when the coast was clear.

Daffy with Alfie on the couch, move over!

He had two favourite sleeping spots, the couch in the lounge and our bed. Every now and then he changed over to the chair in our bedroom, and on winters nights he loved to take over Alfie's bed. Being black, he blended in with the black blanket and the only thing we could see was a white whisker, or an eye. Then Alfie left his bed to Daffy and slept on the bed with us.

Daffy and Dopey on the bed.

He was quiet and unassuming, until Rob rattled the butter dish, or cut a piece of cheese. Then he would come and sit next to Rob and bite his leg until he got a little bit of butter. Every evening he would appear in the kitchen at the precise moment that Rob made his evening coffee. The he would always have a little milk before heading back to bed. He was never a problem and never sick. But the only time he ever sat on my lap, was last Friday evening.

Then on Saturday we noticed that he had not come down for breakfast and he spent the day quietly on our bed. He seemed fine, purred when we spoke to him, went out when he needed to but by the evening his breathing was laboured and his third eyelid was beginning to appear in the corners. Yesterday we knew that he was ill. There was no vet on duty and nothing that we could do until this morning. We kept him warm and as the vet opened this morning, we were outside.

Our beautiful boy.

He had feline leukaemia. He was in pain and there was only one choice for us.

Beautiful words, and so true.

We stayed with him until the end and then brought him home to lie in the garden next to Clyde, our old boy who had come with us from Johannesburg.

Our hearts are spilling over right now.