03 June 2017
Do you remember Miss Tuffy-Cat, the pretty tortoiseshell cat who greeted me with such affection when I first arrived in Cape Town after my long, long trip from Nova Scotia, on the east coast of Canada?
From the beginning, she made me feel so welcome in her home.
We spent many happy hours sitting together in the garden, soaking up the warmth of the South African sun and listening to the birds singing and watching them bathing in the water fountain. When it was cold and wet, we huddled in front of the heater, and in the evenings, we curled up on the sofa, watching a movie.
When my friends were working hard at their jobs, Miss Tuffy-Cat and I had long philosophical discussions about important issues and told each other our dreams and goals for the future. And whenever I returned from a trip, she eagerly listened to my stories of where I had been and what I had seen. She was a wonderful listener. And she had the most marvelous rumbling purr that just went on and on…
One day, earlier this year, she remarked that she did not have much time left. She was feeling tired all the time and her legs were getting weak from old age and her bones were aching from the arthritis.
Reggie stayed closely by her side, cuddling with her, feeding her the most delicious food she could find and brushing her every day with catnip – which, as you know, Miss Tuffy-Cat was very partial to! But eventually the day we had all been dreading arrived.
And so we said goodbye to our dear, fluffy-tailed, soft-pawed, furry-tummied Miss Tuffy-Cat.
I must say that, although she was a very quiet and peaceful cat (well, unless there was tuna or catnip involved), the house and garden feel rather silent without her. We all miss her very much. I like to visit her grave from time to time. Maggie the Meerkat and her two playful youngsters, Morris and Boris, stand watch, as they did when she was still alive.