Farewell

Another grievous wound to the heart - my well-loved cat Ribbit died in my arms in the early hours of the morning after some major seizures. She was 16 years old, and had been getting a little creaky, but we did not expect this.

A companion to Margarita, my 18 year old cat who had to be euthanized about this time last year, Ribbit always maintained a physically kittenish look and appeal. She had a rent in the top of her right ear, proud battle scar of taking on a tom three times her size, who she vanquished with help from Margarita.

An excellent mouser with the softest of fur, she liked nothing better than to curl up on top of my head when I was sleeping. There is nothing like happycat dribble for styling one's hair overnight, and nothing like a contented purr for soothing one to sleep.

She also provided me with not only my main email address, but also the screen name by which I am known in all but one of the various internet forums and communities I have been a member of for the past 9 years - to the extent that when I have met people in real life, they address me as 'Ribbit'.

Later today, we shall go to a nursery and pick a rose to plant where we are burying her, in our handkerchief of a front garden; something beautiful and scented.