Buster, my little boy
Buster came to me seven years ago as a kitten. His owner was going to get rid of him and even though I already had two other cats I stepped in and rescued him. He was a gorgeous, loving cat. He never scratched or bit anyone. He used to crawl up my chest and bury his head under my chin. I used to think this was just 'cupboard love' but he would do it even when he'd just been fed. Everyone who met him commented on his gentle nature. He used to make us laugh at the way he slept, stretched out on his back, like a teenager in bed. Six months ago, we moved house. I fretted for weeks about how the cats would settle in, and whether I should let them out or keep them as house cats. Eventually I took the risk and let them out. They fell in love with their new surroundings, Buster particularly loving the fields and gardens around him. He was the hunter, and rarely a week would go by without him presenting us with a 'gift'. He wasn't too good at actually killing his prey, and we frequently released captured mice and voles back into the field opposite. It was Busters love of hunting that finally led to his death two days ago. Early in the evening, he took himself across the road to the fields. on the way back a car hit him and he was killed instantly. My husband and I heard the impact and went out to check the cars were ok, it was then we found our beloved Buster lying in the road. I am devastated at his loss. No one really understands my grief at losing 'just a cat' but I have never felt this upset at anyones death, even my best friends. We have buried him in the garden he loved so much. I can never replace him, he was one in a million, a cat amongst cats.