I sing in praise of Kiffer the Bold whose life was short but full.
Who would walk in the wild without fear.
Who could lay out a line of rats and almost label them so that all would know that these were the rats that Kiffer had taken.
Who was big and warm and welcoming.
Who would sit on a lap with a weight like a dog.
Who would wrap paws around your leg when he was hungry and politely bite to demand that you hurry for a cat has business to be about.
Who would sometimes decide that your dinner was his dinner and try and climb on your plate.
Whose eyes were like amber jewels so bright.
Whose whiskers were long and straight.
Whose whiskers were long and straight.
Whose fur was a blush of strawberry roan.
Who could smile with the secret smile of a cat.
Who could raise a smile from the saddest of people.
Who lay beside the puppy when she was sleeping and whispered stories of giant cats into her dreaming ears to teach her manners.
Who walked with his head on one side almost as if the world looked better that way.
Whose miaow had the curious croak of the corncrake's cry, as if he had stolen the voice of a bird.
Who was loved.
Kiffer moved on from this life this morning after a brief illness. Yesterday evening he came for food with all the other cats then curled on a cushion underneath the table, quiet. He did not seem to suffer any pain and right to the last his glorious cat eyes were bright and shining. In his last moments he stretched a small stretch and breathed his last breath and moved peacefully on to whatever adventures await a cat.
And I am sad.
An old picture of the Kiffercat in his beautiful prime
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