My Little Milly

Oct 28, 2016 by

My Little Milly

This evening last week I was going crazy looking for you. In and out calling your name. The last time I saw you, you were skulking along the beech hedge at the front. It crossed my mind I hoped you wouldn’t go out on the road. Not really thinking you would.

The driver who crossed you. Did they care? Were you just collateral damage? Did they drive at you? So many do when it’s just a cat.

This time last year you came here with your sister, Molly. Two little abandoned, motherless scraps. I had just finished feeding a load of rejected piglets and I was in no humour to start all over again. I often felt guilty and resented you both. I wanted you to hurry up and learn to eat. I wanted you to hurry up and learn to use a litter tray. I wanted you to hurry up and learn how to clean yourselves. I was fed up of bathing sticky milk and food off you.

Milly and Molly after yet another bath

Instinctively I knew there was something wrong with Molly. And when she started to die I wasn’t surprised. I tried to make her as comfortable as possible but when I was at the hospital having my ankle X-rayed she died. I felt guilty. But you were still here and very much alive. You gradually wormed your way into my heart. You followed me everywhere. You attacked everything that moved. You tumbled on beds as I changed the linen. You attacked the bin liner. You charged around the floor after rolled up receipts and chocolate wrappers, You swung out of washing when I hung it up.

I kept you in the house all the time. It was easy in winter. In summer impossible and gradually you were shooting out any open gap. I told you over and over to stay away from the road and you did. Anytime I called you, you came running. When you didn’t I used go out and look up and down the road and sigh relief when there was nothing there.

When I went away you appeared and sat on the doorstep as I reversed in the driveway. You investigated everything I did. I had a job convincing you that tables and work tops were not for tripping across. Especially when it was fine outdoors.

You broke all the rules. You were the only cat ever who slept in all night. The only cat who ever got to sleep on a bed. The only cat ever who slept with me. Gradually I got used to having you beside me. Having you pounce on me at 5am. Stroke my cheek at 2am.

Curl up on my knee in the evening. Wrap your paws around me and stare up at me.

I have had dozens of cats here over the years but you were different. People who said they didn’t like cats, loved you. You had a happy, breezy personality. You embraced life. You lived life.

When I found you, my heart broke. It’s still breaks, every time I think of you.

I miss you.

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4 Comments

  1. Ah Margaret, you made me cry. Poor Milly. Poor you. I sit here with my big galute asleep on my notebook on the kitchen table beside me and think how devastated I was when he almost died eating a nerf gun bullet, of all things.

  2. Thanks Andrea, only saw this comment now. I still miss her.

  3. absolutely gutted. what a gorgeous tribute. xo

  4. Thanks, miss her so much.

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