Stanley died tonight. He was hit by a car and we think was killed instantly. He was part of our lives for nearly seventeen years and of our two cats was the better one (by some margin). I thought I was okay about it - he was old, still healthy, died quickly, had a good life - but when I rang my mother I just broke down. Stan was a lovely cat and I won't know a better one. There will be a void, Stanley-shaped, for quite some time.
We tried to numb the grief with a bottle of Prune & Parnsip - which I am not in the best position to judge right now - and by watching
The Full Monty - and that helped. But right now, I would like to be annoyed by a cat whining about his food being inadequate.
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| Stanley - butter wouldn't melt! |
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