Last Days

In his last days, Tony the cat became

more discerning and decided that

outside was not worth bothering about

and his litter tray was not up to scratch.

He found more amenable sites where

he could remind us that he was

still alive: the fire place, under the pipes,

behind the stove. It may have been his

version of the treasure hunt where

the only clue is the smell. And perhaps

he knew that we have lost some of

our powers of tracking scents and that

we would end up in the wrong corner of

a room, puzzled. But then, after a whole

morning looking, we’d find it, hurrahs all

round, a brief discussion over who had

stewardship of the treasure itself and

then the wait for the next hunt. Small

wonder he’s much missed.