R.I.P. Phoebe Morgan Granit - 24th Dec 2007

Bad news first. Our beautiful, cuddly, talkative, fluff monster, lunatic, killer, mental, oh and schizophrenic cat was hit by a car on Christmas Eve and died. She's been with us since two weeks before our Molly arrived and has left rather a gaping hole in the household.

I'm not sure how much Moo understands, but she has told me on several occasions that she misses Phoebe and how much she loved her. So we have a chat about how Mummy misses her too, and that she's not coming back but she's in kitty heaven (not bad eh, from two agnostic/atheist parents, but hey... it works, it's in). Poor little poppet, she cried about a dead bee on the driveway not long ago, so goodness knows what went through her little head, but she seems OK with it. Everyone tells me that at this age they just kind of accept things, it's only us 'grown ups' that don't - fear of mortality (but this is definitely not the time or place to be getting into that one!).

Anyway, we miss her a lot, especially when we hang out the laundry (she would wind her way around my legs and chase Molly round the pole and generally cause havoc for us), while watching TV in the evening (there is a space on my lap that needs a purring thing), whilst innocently walking out of the living room (no really, I used to shout at her, but I wish she was there to grab at my legs and frighten the living daylights out of Molly, hee hee!), all the time really.

She's buried in the garden, where the big protea tree used to be, that was one of her best hunting spots, so we're going to put one of those whirly-winged garden ornament birdy things on the spot - to remind all the lucky birds that managed to escape from her that she's still about.