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Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing-'Oh how beautiful!" and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out and start their working lives
At grubbing weeds from gravel paths with broken dinner-knives. ~ Rudyard Kipling
We live in the country side on a bog lane, We adopted a cat when we moved into our house 14 years ago, the previous owners told us they couldn’t find one of their cats but they would be back for it. We found 2 cats, both very young probably around a year old, anyway the owners came back but only took the black and white cat and left the tabby, they said they didn’t want it. There was no way I would see an animal abandoned and even though my wife is not an animal lover we adopted Tigger. Over the years she would bring us presents of dead mice, voles, rats, birds generally sparrow, dunnock or starlings but on occasion a pigeon. She even brought home a fully grown rabbit one day but wouldn’t leave it at the back door, she brought it over to under the oil tank and proceeded to feast on it like how a wild large cat would feast on an antelope or something on the Serengeti.
Anyway Tigger gave us a family of 2 tabby’s, a black and white Tom and a multicoloured kitten we called gizmo after the creatures Gremlins. The tabby twins were adopted by friends of our, the Tom took to roaming despite being nutured and Gizmo had a nervous disposition, Tom eventually met his story end out on the main road, he just wouldn’t stay around. We think that Gizmo was cat napped by some travellers but through it all Tigger survived. She was an outdoor cat and would very seldom come inside so I built her a small kennel and put a bed and an old sweatshirt of mine in it. When I would be out in the garden she would always come up to me and sidle up knowing I had treats in my pocket. She would often sit on my shoulder as I walked around the yard. All my grandchildren loved her and always wanted to feed her treats.
Sad news was that about 2-3 weeks ago she went off her food, and when it got to the stage of her not eating her favourite treat little meat sticks you get in Aldi or Lidl I knew her time was limited, she passed away about 2 weeks ago sleeping in her kennel and curled up in my sweatshirt. She’s now buried at the back of my poly tunnel deep down so the Foxes can’t dig her up. R.I.P. Tigger.
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