Farewell Speedy.

Sadly by this morning it was clear that Speedy was in heart failure. His breathing had worsened yesterday though he happily ate the posh cat food and downed a bowl of milk, normally a forbidden treat but by this morning he only ate a handful of Dreamies. By the time we got to the vet it was clear there was only one kind option to take.

Taken this morning.

Below is a photo taken in 2011 not long after we got him. Originally he had been a stray in our nearby town of Barnstaple and aged 6-9 months had wandered into a local pub where he promptly collapsed. Not only was he thin and starving but the vet thought he may well have been kicked too. He was taken in by the landlady's sister but it wasn't an ideal situation as not only did she live in a flat but she had a free flying African Grey parrot. She knew that Pete lived out in the country and that we had a number of cats, 4 I think at that time, and asked if we would take him in. To which I replied 'of course'.

 

Speedy got his name from the eager way he rushed around everywhere including straight into the pond through the duckweed. He was always getting into scrapes and had an adventurous life catching rats and other small creatures. (He caught a few rats here too.) When we moved into town with just Speedy and Patch, Speedy managed to scrape along the back of one foot probably from climbing over the rough concrete garden wall. Being on his foot he had to wear an extra large cone on his head in attempt to stop him from licking the scrape and even so it took over a year before the skin healed. He was confined to the house during that time though he did jump out of an upstairs window once. Luckily he would come when whistled. Recently I trained him to come to a dog whistle which he learnt pretty quickly.

Because he had been a stray he had not retained a meow after kittenhood and instead communicated with us by croaking. Any time I took him to the vet he would utter the most plaintive wails when there was nothing at all wrong with him but this morning he was quiet which was another bad sign.

Another photo from 2011 where he had jammed his head inside some sort of food container.

I brought him home and buried him in the front garden. I know he was only an animal but even their short lives gives them a place in our hearts.