47 Days: Vale Maggie

Maggie came into our lives about three years ago. She landed on my mother's doorstep one day, hungry and bedraggled. Nobody knew where she came from. She had no identifying marks. She just appeared.

Being my mother, she told Maggie straight up that she had better skeddaddle or she would end up with a bullet from The Mister. She ignored the fact that this poor, hungry urchin was dancing around her legs.

Half an hour later, my mother finds this scallywag on the back porch being fed ham - by The Mister.

Ham is much better than a bullet. It seems that The Mister, who tries to say that he's not a cat person, was completely won over. One day, somebody will tell my step-father that he is a cat person, he's just in denial.

And about the bullet - this was a real bullet. We're from the country - guns are used for vermin control. My parents live in the country and feral cats are a huge problem - and they are regularly dispensed with by the application of a shot gun. It's an unfortunate fact of life. They also get a lot of animals which are dumped arriving on the doorstep. It's revolting to think that people would dump a pet in the country - as Maggie certainly was - she was too tame, too friendly - and as my parents found out an hour later, house trained).

A week later, the aforesaid Maggie, named because she looked like a magpie, was micro chipped, wormed, spayed, vaccinated, registered and presented my my niece, who at the time was fighting leukaemia. Maggie and Lolly got on like a house on fire. The best of friends.

On Lauren's passing, Maggie helped my sister and her family get through the grief of the loss of Loll.

Maggie was always a character cat. Loved a game. Loved a chase. She loved getting into mischief. She wasn't particularly sociable, but she loved her family. And they will be forever grateful that she was around after the loss of both Loll, and Bozley, the family dog.

It appears that Maggie is no more. She didn't come home for dinner on Monday night, and she hasn't been heard from since. My sister and brother-in-law have scoured the neighbourhood - but to no avail.

Tonight, they heard that a small black and white cat was seen dead in the gutter not far from my sister's place. It matched her description.

The family are devastated - including my mother who was looking forward to babysitting this little cat next week. (and you wonder where I get it)

I'll be hugging Maow Maow extra tight tonight.

So, vale Maggie, you strange little beast. I hope you're happy across the rainbow bridge.

Bloody animals. They get under your skin.


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