You may remember her arrival and subsequent microchip discovery early in 2013, just over a year ago. We had hoped Inky would travel to see her long-lost family, but she settled here in Bantry and decided to stay with me after all. She was half blind, half deaf, pretty rickety and wholly adorable.
And she soon made her presence known with her fabulously LOUD miaow. At least once daily, often three times, Inky would be unsure of my location and, little inclined to creak round the house peering myopically for my presence, she’d plonk herself halfway up the stairs and miaow – ‘COME AND GET ME! I WANT A SNORGLE!’ And I would, dutifully, go and find her, bring her to wherever I was working – and have a wee snorgle.
Her loud demands amused me so much I had to make a video to share.
And earlier this year, in the sunshine in April, I made a pile of videos of the gang loving the weather and caught a few more instances of Inky’s verbositude. I compiled another video of her ladyship to post, but she developed a growth in her belly around the same time, and I was distracted by her ill health. Shortly after, she had a fit one evening and I rushed her to the vet (only five minutes away thank goodness), not really expecting to bring her back home with me. But she survived and rallied and continued to miaow and snorgle and scarf her food as before.
We knew she didn’t have long. So I spoiled her with treats, and chicken, and white fish, and snorgles and comfy spots and lots of attention. And again I found myself relying on the vet staff – Fachtna, Lucie, Tereza & Jenni – to tell me when to let go. Everyone has been fantastic. And today it was time. Tereza and Jenni were great with Inky – I have to thank them both so much for giving her such an easy journey out into the light.
So it’s time to belatedly post Inky’s video – what has turned out to be her LOUD Goodbye. Larry and Curly both put in guest appearances (reminding me that I still haven’t written Curly’s story – the latest addition to the menagerie). I particularly like the shot of Inky sniffing the air; and her wonderfully long whiskers; and her final approach for her customary affectionate headbutt.
Inky particularly liked to have a wee snooze outdoors in the sunshine – she never figured out the catflap, so her trips outside were always supervised. The glorious sunshine we’ve been having were great for her last days and put me in mind of one of my favourite poems. I’ve already included it in these pages, but will repeat it here, as it feels so appropriate.
A 14-Year Old Convalescent Cat in the Winter
by Gavin Ewart
I want him to have another living summer,
to lie in the sun and enjoy the douceur de vivre –
because the sun, like golden rum in a rummer,
is what makes an idle cat un tout petit peu ivre –
I want him to lie stretched out, contented,
revelling in the heat, his fur all dry and warm,
an Old Age Pensioner, retired, resented
by no one, and happinesses in a beelike swarm
to settle on him – postponed for another season
that last fated hateful journey to the vet
from which there is no return (and age the reason),
which must soon come – as I cannot forget.
Inky had a great life to celebrate – and a great last year – I never expected her to last this long, she was in such bad condition when she arrived. I’m really sorry she never made it home to her people, but she had a lovely time here and lived out her last year with many purrs and snorgles and sunbeams – and beelike swarms of happinesses. A happy, contented cat to the end. And a good long life. As it should be.
- Inky’s Arrival (aka Gasket)
- Inky’s Going Home
- Inky’s Looking Good
- The Mercurial Retirement Home
- Inky’s Galleries
- Find out more about Microchipping