Goodbye Cleo

Just a short post to say that our cat, Cleo, died last Saturday. She had been very ill for a few weeks and although we and the vet tried to keep her going, in the end we had to decide that the best thing was to have her . . . hard to find the right words . . . put to sleep is untrue and sentimental, euthanaised is jargonistic and cold. It was just time to end her life to end her suffering. She was given a sedative and then an injection that stopped her heart. Unfortunately I was away and so R had to take her on his own. I know a lot of people, including many friends, don't really understand about animals, and it is true that they can be a nuisance,an expense, and a tie. I was often ambivalent about having a cat, although R never was. But you learn to love what you care for and over these 15 plus years she had become a friend. The house feels empty, boringly human, although everywhere I look: on the stairs, in front of the fire, in the corner of the settee, on the terrace, I still see her slipping round corners and under tables, a furry invisible ghost. We'll miss her beautiful eyes, her patience and tolerance, her sociability, her unconditional, unwavering affection. We'll leave her here in France, but we'll also be taking her home.