Sadly, Doris died last night. She was at Dr John’s and was on painkillers and other medications, so John says she would have just gone to sleep and not woken up. All her vital signs were fine that evening and she had eaten. I hope she wasn’t frightened, or confused, or lonely, and that her last few hours were peaceful. I wish that I was with her when she died. I last saw her yesterday morning and had given her some reassuring words and a pat, and she nuzzled my hand and pushed her body against me. I combed her back a little too, because she hadn’t been grooming.
Fifteen years ago Doris selected me – she was yowling in a rainstorm outside my window one night, wet and bedraggled. She must have a seen a warm home, and a handsome young boy-cat called Orlando. She moved in and never left.
Orlando and Doris have been best friends ever since. They would playfight and tussle, sleep and eat together.
I think Orlando is starting to wonder where Doris has gone.
Doris was an uncomplicated cat, never moody, never aloof.
Her favourite thing in the world was tummy rubs. Her least favourite things were ear medicine and car rides.
From where I am sitting I can see the sofa that Doris loved, and this was her favourite time of the afternoon because the sun comes streaming in through the window.
She was the sweetest girl you could ever meet.
Doris taught me that love comes from unexpected places. You don’t always choose the people you love, sometimes they choose you.
Goodbye Doris. You were loved and will be missed.