I had tons of blogging plans last week. All of them were about sharing new and exciting stuff and things that I’d found in world with you.

And then RL happened.

Obviously with a name like Kitty you’d be inclined to think I’m a cat person, and I wear my ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ badge with pride.

Sadly, at the weekend one of my beloved cats, Puddin’, took ill and within 24 hours he had died. 

It’s very difficult to explain how much the loss of a pet can hurt. People don’t like it if you describe your grief as being as raw as it would be had a close friend died. Having experienced that, I can tell you it isn’t the same, but that doesn’t diminish it in my eyes at all. I ache. I hate the fact that he’s gone. Having so many pets in my life means at some stage I must accept that they have passed but that never, ever lessens the grief. I have mourned for every single one of my pets and I miss them all still, and losing Pud at the weekend was an especially cruel blow. 

I was there when Pud came into the world, and almost 8 years later I was with him as he left it.  He was a furry monster with a penchant for unsavoury midnight snacks of the rodent kind. He was great at wearing trees in his fur, and was ever-so-slightly dim. He had the world’s most pathetic meow, considering he was so utterly majestic you would have expected to hear him roar; instead he kind of squeaky mouth-farted. He was like a carpet with legs. He looked like a Norwegian Forest Cat, and when he hit the deck the house practically shook.  He’s irreplaceable, and the house is less without him in it. 

I’m now left with two cats from my original, seemingly limitless pride.  His Mother, Piu, and his brother, Mylo.

I have no doubt that they’re grieving; although Mylo would adore him and chastise him in equal measure, leading to my breaking up many a ridiculous fight, I know that he is missing his brother dreadfully. As I write this he is perched at the top of the stairs, looking sadly down them towards the cat-flap, expecting Pud to waltz in at any minute, attempting to bellow his arrival.  Piu’s mood is harder to gauge; she’s so aloof most of the time, and incredibly anti-social, that I initially thought she’d not even noticed Pud’s passing. But I’m starting to think that I might be wrong on that; she hasn’t left my side today and is behaving in an almost clingy manner, which for Piu is a totally new experience.  

It’s very plain to see that my dog, Indy, misses her chum. Dogs wear their emotions on their coats like raindrops; Pud would rub up against her head and purr so loudly that she would wag her tail in delight. They were also excellent sleeping partners, much to Mylo’s disgust.  It’s clear that she is feeling his loss, just like the rest of us.

 We all miss him terribly. Sleep well my darling Pud.