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Dis Manibus


10 July 2011 - 22 September 2019

Bob was a very good boy.  He said he was eight years old on his last birthday.  He was a Leo.  Like 'The Littlest Hobo' he wandered into my life, just at the right time, like a gift from God, an answer to prayers only half believed possible. He brought comfort to the lonely, marginalised, bereaved and unloved.  He understood human and he was telepathic, returning whenever he was yearned for. He had a great sense of humour and he was very caring, loving and clever.  He required scratches around the itchy chops, kisses on the head, chicken with sauce, and a safe place to sleep.  He also loved the shed, which I redecorated, just for his use, calling it 'Bob's House'.  He liked bright colours, colour therapy, posing for the camera, watching Impractical Jokers, listening to Louis Prima, playing with feathers, kisses on the head...and birds!!!  He absolutely hated water of absolutely any kind, including rain.  He'd eat any type of bird or anything cleverly presented as bird via sauces and 'hundreds and thousands'.  He spent most of his time hunting, eating, sleeping and cuddling.  For my birthday, he gave me the gift of allowing me to see him climb a tree, for the first and only time, from which I had to rescue him, ill as he was, but we didn't mention that.   As his illness grew worse, his routine changed and he would stay all the time, asleep, or he would barely visit.  One day he simply stopped coming.   I miss him more than I've ever missed anything or anyone.  He was the only true friend I've ever had.  He was an enchanting creature, far superior to people and I thank God for having known him and I pray I might see him again.   I feel sure now, since the crow crowed and since I caught sight of him on my bed; that time will come in the after world. 


New Moon in Leo, 2016.jpg

Queen Moschops Boo

24 April 1999 - 27 September 2018

Boo was a 'cat like creature', who began as a trusting, gentle ball of fluff, met a fake 'shaman' and then turned full wild cat, which was in fact anxiety and stress.  Stolen by 'family' and kept at a distance, except when finance was required, she suffered much ill health, increasing because it was neither noted nor diagnosed.  Finally liberated six weeks prior to her death, like a Lion in Zion, she came back fighting, almost her old self, but she was pretending; her long term illnesses and other issues became apparent and treatment was sought, but it killed her.

Boo had the most beautiful, clear, large green eyes and a white heart shape on her belly and despite being almost wholly black; she was shaded, with highlights, like a beautiful painting.  She had very large paws, secret stripes, only visible in the sunlight and her vocabulary wasn't shared by other domestic cats, consisting of grunts, growls, screams and sniffs (to show impatience).  Always washing, her fur was the softest texture I've ever felt. 

Boo was a special little girl.  She was a good hunter and she always had the 'big hand' ready, just in case.  She also loved to play, enjoyed attention and liked cuddles; to a point!  Being a Queen, she was used to the finer things in life.  She was especially partial to squid and duck.  She liked listening to Aretha, Bob Marley and James Brown.  She liked red and purple, sparkly things and jewellery (collars, for which she'd purr) and she had a beauty spot in her ear; she was the Marilyn Monroe of cats, as well as the Muhammad Ali, because she could 'sting like a butterfly and float like a bee'.   

I miss my Boo-Boo a lot, unlike the rest and I'm so sorry I couldn't save her.  She deserved so much better, better than me.


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