Fudge
While I was away for a while Granny's cat, Padgett 2 died (Granny couldn't get to grips with a new name so she was a sequel, a bit like The Two Towers in the Lord of The Rings). Padgett, the first cat, The Fellowship of The Ring so to speak, died back in May. Padgett 2 was a rescue cat, she was old, she got ill one day and died the next. Granny was distraught.
She rang the vet's clinic every ten minutes because she didn't remember what she had been told the last time she had rung. Her mind being fragile, her emotions are immediate and intense. Without a proper memory she gets into a confused state, is comforted by another, forgets the comfort and returns to the pain. And it continues, sometimes for a long time.
Two neighbours, kind-hearted yet short of patience and somewhat lacking in the ability to communicate thought it would be best to immediately replace her and Fudge arrived via the good ladies of the cats' protection league. Except Fudge has now disappeared, she slipped out of the back door while I was sorting out her litter tray and headed through the hedge towards the houses beyond.
Granny is distraught. I'm off out to try to find her, Granny is at the front door calling 'Padgett, Padgett, here puss' to Fudge (The Return of The King). She is crying and she is upset.
There's a photo above, give me a shout if you see her.
