We Interrupt This Broadcast | For Furby

I haven't had the heart to blog about books or movies this week, or to Tweet. I haven't written word one about anything since Monday, in point of fact, and there's a reason for that.

Three years ago - almost to the day, damn it - the other half and I got it into our heads that having a cat about the house would be wonderful. We went to the closest shelter and fell, not for a cutesy little kitten or a feisty young feline in full possession of its powers, but for a nervous long-term resident hiding in a brown paper bag. Furby was 14 years old at the time, she'd been blind since birth, and though everyone at the shelter thought she was awesome, no-one seemed to be willing to home her.

For shame! We didn't get to spend as many months as we'd have liked with one another, but Furby was part of the family for long enough that I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was the best cat I ever had. The kindest, the sweetest, the most loving, the most loyal. Also the softest. And certainly the silliest.

I'd put up a picture, but it still makes me sore to see her.

I've been lucky, in my adult life, to have had to deal with death so very rarely. My grandparents all passed early on, and the rest of my family are still fighting fit. That's something to be thankful for, I suppose... and I am. But it's hard to hold gratitude in your heart in the face of such a tragic turn of events.

I'm not going to go into detail, but suffice it to say we said our goodbyes to Furby in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. She'd been poorly for days. We knew it was coming. And when it did, we were all glad it had. At least, we were in retrospect.

So. Last night, after some sudden gardening, we buried Furby in the rockery in our back yard, under five feet of soft soil and a gorgeous red granite rock. We planted some beautiful bluebells around the boulder, in the hope that they blossom every Spring, the better to remind us all that we've lost. Of who we've lost, I should say, because Furby was every bit a part of the family.

She was one of us... just with whiskers.

...

Anyway. I'll be back at this thing in a bit. This week, though, there have been certain other things on my mind. I'm sure all of you who've loved and lost a close animal companion will understand.