For Mungo

This post is probably for Ailurophiles only.

It's a tribute to a very stupid cat. A cat who we lost in August, to a really virulent leukaemia, and who we still miss dreadfully.

Mungo came to us from a farm, at  7 or 8 weeks old, with his sister Megan. We were lucky to have him for nearly 9 years. He was so sickly when he arrived that we though we'd lose him.Apart from being half the size of his sister, he was riddled with worms and had an eye infection. But he got through, and proved much tougher than we expected.

From the beginning it was obvious that he was pretty thick differently abled.  He was a very slow learner. He had to be carefully taught skills that most cats know by instinct - jumping, climbing, NOT peeing on his bed. He had no awareness of catiquette - he either panicked or tried to play when confronted with a strange cat. If he was anxious or scared he'd walk in circles like a caged tiger at the zoo. He only ever acnowledged two people - S and me. He could never accept our kids when they came along. His only successful hunt was when he caught a butterfly which virtually flew into his mouth. He was clumsy, slow, and amazingly for a cat, totally ungraceful.

                             Oh, and he picked some pretty wierd places to sleep.

But he was wonderfully affectionate to S and me (on his terms). He was the only cat I have every known to purr while he ate. He ALWAYS knew when food was in the offing.

I miss him. The house isn't right without him.