My lovely cat Socks.
by Ingrid farrell
My cat Socks died a few days ago at the age of thirteen,
Up till three months ago he had been the most strong active and funniest of cats, he had a great sense of humour, especially
at night when we were in bed. To get our attention he would
rattle his plate loud, or rattle the pictures on the wall.
He suffered from gum disease, and was on steroids. For a
while he responded well to this treatment. Last week he seemed to become weaker, not wanting to drink or eat and sat between
the front door and garden , sometimes trying to hide in his favourite bushes outside. We knew he was getting ready for the end
and by the time the vet could come he had passed away.
He is buried in his favourite territory where he had enjoyed so much of his life.
Our family miss him so much, we have cried for days.
We would give anything to see that lovely black and white face again with that special wise look he gave us. A wonderful companion.