RIP Buddug

This morning as I was cooking my porridge, one of the neighbours knocked on my door, asked me if I had a fluffy tabby cat. I could see from the expression on her face that it wasn't good news.

I'd already fed Buddug earlier, and she'd gone off to do whatever it was she normally did of a morning. Only this morning it involved going across the road to the neighbour's garden, then dashing back just as a car was coming past. Something must have spooked her, as she's normally very good at avoiding traffic. The driver was as distraught as my neighbour, and had stopped to find out who that cat belonged to, to apologise. I found myself in the bizarre situation of having to console both of them whilst trying to come to terms with what had happened.

Buddug was still breathing then, but unconscious. I took her to the vet, and she came round as I was driving, moaning loudly and trying to crawl into the footwell. I had hopes that she would recover, though her breathing was a bit rough. But the brunt of the impact was to her head, breaking her jaw. The vet reckoned she might lose an eye, too. She was quietly optimistic though - Buddug's legs and spine were fine and she could move, albeit woozily. I left with instructions to phone them back at four. Thanks to BT there's not really any better way of getting in touch.

I've just got to the old house, to find a message saying that Buddug took a turn for the worse after I'd gone, and died around ten o'clock this morning.

She wasn't quite yet six years old.

I already miss her.