Posted: 25/09/2012 at 22:38
Rain - when my most beloved cat, Zoe, died, I was devastated. She was 21years old - a very goodly age indeed, but that didn't make it any easier. I buried her underneath a lovely hydrangea, and I still think of her when I am in that part of the garden.
At the cat rescue place, the kitten that I wanted was lovely; they needed a home for her two year old mother as well, and, softie that I am, I took her on as well.
Having been ill-used by her farmer-owner, she was a difficult cat, hissing and growling when picked up. Today, many years on, she is a mirror image of my Zoe. She follows me down the garden path like a little dog. She trips me up in the greenhouse, preferring to curl up near my feet when I am pricking out/seed-sowing. She likes (uniquely) to climb next-door's ornamental pear tree and seemingly "nest" in the high branches, to the amusement of neighbours.
She doesn't replace Zoe. But she comes pretty close! Her name is Kiri (after the opera singer) and I love her to bits.