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Monday, 4 March 2013

Missing the Mans

For those of you who pop by here regularly, I’m very sad to announce that just before Christmas we lost a major little part of our family. The cat, most commonly known as Mans or the Little Man Child or Jobbies or his actual name Josh, sadly decided he was too old to handle anything that interrupted his happy days of napping and shortly after a seizure in my arms (worst day ever), we found ourselves at the vets making the most horrid of decisions.


 

Despite his ailments (and old man groans as he closed in on twenty years), he was a well-travelled little fella, who moved several times with us, readjusting effortlessly despite being blind and enjoyed many holidays in the caravan (which he adored - not much space to explore) and on the canal boat (oh, how he loved Poon’s comfy chair in front of the fire, not so much the harness for riverside walks though). We miss him. The house is too quiet. There's nobody at our feet to chat with. There's no comforting furry cuddles as soon as you sit down. There's no small snuggling at the foot of the bed. The rabbit misses him too and has become somewhat of a recluse who has to be dragged in for cuddles. As if in dispute that it was the cat's job to do that, he soon wriggles away and goes back to sulking in the empty hallway where the two used to lay side by side.

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