Weather-honey-bunny-bubby-by

Weatherby was a precious wee boy who died three years ago today, a half-Manx with proud whiskers, big round eyes, and a sonorous purr. He was strong and smart enough to engage in human sized games, and he loved to run. We would tear around the house scaring each other silly. I would find myself in breathless fits of laughter and he would end up in the bath (his hidey-hole of choice).

He was very sick for some time before he died, his condition remaining largely undetected until the last two weeks of his life. The diagnosis of diabetes I had anticipated. The congestive heart failure was a complete shock. He was in "hospital" for ten days and home for six. Essentially, he didn't respond well to treatment and failed to stabilise. A final mercy dash to the After Hours Veterinary Clinic ensued. We fought hard - that night and into the following morning - to save him, but it was not to be. I remember those two weeks as a highly charged and frantic time. It was also a fortnight full of magical moments. I can shed tears if I want to. Ultimately, I smile.

Earlier this year, I bought two new bowls for a kitten I don't have. Nevertheless, they're sitting safely in one of my kitchen's bottom drawers...just waiting for the chance to be filled.