Our summer sadness was to say goodbye to our precious Pushkin, the Big Daddy of our feline family. It’s very hard to find words to express how much he meant to us.
From the very beginning, he had enormous, expressive eyes and an adventurous spirit.
He learned to face intruding snakes head-on – he was fearless – and an intrepid hunter. Many was the night when he woke us up with his special call, letting Z know there was a gift waiting for him on the doorstep. Thanks to Pushkie our homestead was a mouse-free zone.
He was a very affectionate kitty and our mornings began with one of his leg-brushing greetings. If he couldn’t find me in the kitchen he would come to find me mid-Pilates and brush an outstretched leg!
He loved to snuggle up against us, more often than not with an embracing paw, at once demonstrative and protective.
We Scots have a verb ‘to coorie’ which means to snuggle and to take comfort. At bedtime as kids we’d be told to ‘coorie doon’ and go to sleep. Pushkin took delight in coorying in boxes, crates, suitcases.
His favourite thing was to accompany me in my gardening tasks and insinuate himself into my weed bag. Sometimes, I hadn’t noticed his arrival and suddenly finding him in there could be a bit of a shock!
We spent a lot of time together, but I miss him most in the morning. Together we would share the sunshine and a balcony chair. I can think of no better way to start your day: coffee, a crossword and a cuddly cat.
Pushkie, we miss you so very much – happy hunting grounds, precious puss!
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