I found Felix outside my garden gate sunbathing on a tiny patch of grass; a handful of black and white fur. I only noticed him when I'd already got in the car to go to our summerhouse, and he looked so scrawny...yet when he woke up he was so unusually friendly; he wasn't scared of anything! I stroked him and made a fuss of him, then had to leave. He was still there when I came back and I was so attached to him already. He was limping though, and so I picked him up and took him in the house to get him something to eat so I could look at his right paw. I ended up taking him to the vet and he was so brave in the car, falling asleep on my lap...and yet so scared at the vet. He had ruined the whole pad of the paw which was open ans raw and had to be cleaned and bandaged. Poor thing he peed on the table in fear. He stayed at the vet for a night or 2 and then came home.
When I got him back I had to give him 2 baths because he was so filthy and covered in bugs. He hated it and managed many times to claw his way on to my back to escape from the water. I then blowdried him, which he seemed to like and he fell asleep.
For the short time he was with us, he was the life and soul of the household, and touched everyone he met...melting the coldest hearts with his antics and love. Like his belief that he belonged in the house more than any of us, his adoption of the kitchen chair as his home and bed, his big yellow eyes that watched your very core.
He grew so fast and learnt so much along the way. From being afraid of the grain in the wood of our floors and scissors, to exploring behind the sofas, and discovering the joy of burrowing under our rugs. I'll never forget his tiny voice as he tried to jump on my lap, and as he ran in the door...the conversations we would have together...he had already learnt his name within a week.
I remember how he would cooperate with my dog Chappie so they could both get in the house, and Felix would run across the geothermal tank to get between the front and back door. The time he slipped while it was raining was torture for me, as I thought something would happen to him.
He gave me so much love, I can only content myself in the belief that I made the short time he was with us as wonderful for him as possible. I never though, I would have so little time...his death was cruel and meaningless, I cannot forgive and forget, I cannot move on...he is in my heart and my thoughts everyday and everynight.
The white lillies in my room that are in bloom are testimony to my grief and yet I dont think I can release the pain when they too wilt and die.
I want to think of the good, the love, the cherished memories and yet they all reduce me to tears. I want to see him again, other than in my dreams. TO watch him in the flesh as he chases my bracelet or as he sits on the doorhandle wanting to be let in. I want to feel him in my lap once again and give to him, what I miss everyday. To watch him sleep next to the dog, to smile once more just at the sight of him. To have him follow each of feet around the house and see him hide from, pounce on and chase my other cat. All he wanted to do was play...he was innocent, he should not have been killed. I hope wherever he is he has found peace... he deserves so much more. He was my guardian angel.