Last night I dreamt I cooked a meal for my sister and Fraser Lewry, who I worked with many years back. After pudding my cat, Sooty, entered the room. I said hello and explained to him Fraser was the inventor of cats in sinks and kittenwars, with which I think he was suitably impressed. Liz and I both noticed Sooty had grey hairs on his neck, probably a sign of growing old.
Since selling the house my Mum and Dad have been living in a caravan on my sister’s in-law’s yard. The house in Blackpool was sold a few months back. As I woke up I panicked, wondering where they were keeping Sooty, since they didn’t have a house right now. It took me a while to remember my cat died some years back. It’s set me in a weird mood – how did something like that slip my mind while I was half awake?
Our cat Servalan died a couple of weeks ago. Cats may go, but their presence remains. Something about they way they imprint themselves into your daily routine in silent, unnoticed ways means their absence is startling.
Sorry to hear about Servalan. I remember Servalan from your house in Hove.
I think my favourite thing about cats is their subtlety, those “silent unnoticed ways”.