Lizzie

There have been serious and sad things happening within the family fold this week as we lost a member this morning (Lizzie the Cat) and nearly lost someone from Rocker's side, who thankfully pulled through (but that is a whole other story...).

I fall apart when a pet dies, I can't help myself. It brings back all the trauma and heartache of past pets and the moments they chose to shuffle off this mortal coil. All the goldfish my mother spent hours burying in the back garden, Lady the Dog, Bruiser who got hit by a car and died in my arms, Leo, Lucy and big fat smelly Matilda (my favourite) who all succumbed to feline AIDS. Even Chicken, who cruelly ran away to a hippy family and is now living an organic life under the slightly suburban moniker 'Jake'.

I don't know what I would do with myself if Lucy Fur were to be injured or killed. Life would seem a whole lot shiny without my little Princess Tippy Toes, my Precious Heart. So I'm pretty sad today for little Lizzie who was in her twenties and had a good life with Nanny Worthing and Aunt Veronica.

I'm also slightly amused at the thought of Rocker digging a two foot hole for her in the garden amongst the rose bushes this evening. What a day to be a gravedigger!