Sweeties, Pies and Ginger

Makucha, ? - 6th January 2003, R.I.P.

Makucha was our first cat, we got him from the Blue Cross rescue centre in Cambridge. I've always liked cats, but it was really Karen's idea to get one once we'd moved into our current house. He looked so small and vulnerable sitting in the big cage and unlike lots of the other cats, he came up a rubbed himself over your fingers as you poked them expectantly through the bars.

We were told that they didn't know his age, only that he was definitely over ten years of age. He also had a problem with his paws, if they got a cut, he wouldn't stop bleeding; evidently this had put some people off, but not us. When we got him to our local vet for a check up, we discovered he only had one tooth; it was about this time that we started to think of what he must have been through during his life.

Both Karen and I have thought about it at length and we reckon he was originally a Granny cat, either his owner died or was taken into a home, either way, he was cast out onto the street. Being used to his home comforts he wasn't used to the rigours of being a stray, but he lasted long enough to loose most of his teeth and luckily for us be rescued.

I can still remember his first night in the house; he hid under a clothes horse covered with a load of damp clothes. I suppose this was the easiest dark cubby hole to get to, although he quickly progressed to hiding under the bed and bath for extended periods. I wouldn't say he was the friendliest cat to start with, as naturally, he was wary about these two strangers who had taken him in.

To start with he would go near anyone but Karen and I, but over time as his confidence increased, he would jump up onto the lap of even the most hardened cat hater. I don't think we've ever had anyone to stay who Makucha didn't ended up being friendly to. Only a couple of months ago we had friends to stay and even before they had a chance to properly settle on the sofa he was up on their laps vying for the comfiest knees.

In the early part of last year we knew something wasn't quite right with Makucha, he wasn't himself and we was loosing weight. After a short stay at the vets, he was diagnosed with kidney problems and put on special food and tablets. He made a marked improvement and was doing well even at the start of November, although you could tell from his fur that he wasn't in perfect health.

To celebrate the New Year, Karen and I went to Edinburgh of six days, leaving Karen's brother, Robbie, to look after the cats. When we got back we knew instantly that there was something wrong, the fact that Robbie told us he hadn't eating was just the confirmation of what our eyes were telling us, he wasn't well. We though we'd give him the weekend and see how he got on, but this morning it was obvious that we were going to have to go to the vets. When we got home from work, it was pretty obvious what was going to happen when we got there, as he could hardly stand up.

I'm shedding a few tears as I write this, remembering all the things that he's got up to, all the things I'll miss about him. I'll miss the fact that when I wake up tomorrow and get back into bed after going to the loo, he wont have crept into the bedroom and be settled down on Karen's pillow. I'll miss him more than I can describe here, he might be gone, but he won't ever be forgotten.