Our cat died last night. Cappucino had been very listless yesterday, and then disappeared last night. We looked everywhere for him, without success, before we went to bed. He has disappeared at night before, but not when sick. I looked up and down the street this morning, and then went for my usual, 3km walk. As I turned into our stree, I saw him lying on a neighbour’s front step. Even though he was in his typical sleeping pose, I could tell that he was dead.

I carried him home and put him on the front lawn. Helen and I cried, and Martini went to pieces – she wanted him when we left Indonesia. I dug a hole in the front lawn and buried him.

Non-cat people wouldn’t understand, but it’s hard not to cry while I type this. I’ve had a number of cats, and loved them all. Cappucino was Helen’s cat, but he grew to belong to the three of us. He worshipped Martini, who did most of the feeding. He would go for walks with her, and wait outside other people’s houses for her.

He was probably the loudest cat I’ve ever heard. He could not take a step without making a noise. In Bali, he had no consistent routine, and was almost feral. I suggested a few simple rules, such as only two meals a day, to train him into being a pet. This worked, and, by the time we moved to Surabaya, he had developed his “personality”.

Cappucino was one of the most physically beautiful “moggies” ever. He was bigger than the average Indonesian cat, and, when we lived at the Ciputra villas, roamed wherever he wished. At Taman Mansion, it was the same, although they was a big grey mongrel that caused him concerns. He got very sick twice (resulting in “intensive care” at the vet’s), which meant that he had to re-gain his territory when he got better. That’s what he was doing this week when, suddenly, he went downhill again.

The house is going to be much quieter.



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