Facebook, as I’ve said before, reminds you of times, and memories long passed by.
This morning they reminded me of this photo
A sleeping ginger and white cat and a Welsh terrier reaching out his paw.
The memory was so very different.
This was Joan, my first cat.
One of two sisters ( her quieter and more reticent twin was called Betty) she ruled the roost in my homes in Sheffield after turning up as a kitten at my back door demanding to be let in during a rainstorm .
Loud, vocal and a typical Sheffield working class matriarch in so much she stood no messing from anything and anyone, Joan provided a backdrop of my salad days as a young nurse and when we moved to the country, whereas Betty faded and died, the old Gal Joan, found a new lease of life wandering my field and raising her face to the sun .
She was nearly twenty when the above photo was taken and only a few days later, she took herself off to bed where she died peacefully on a gloomy afternoon.
The first photo shows William watching her carefully before she died. Note the position of his paw, so typical of a Welsh terrier.
His paw lay on her for an age, just touching her tail, something she would never have allowed him do when she was well.x