September 21, 2012 was the last day of our little Tigri. We took him to Frimousse’s doctor, thinking that maybe she would propose another medecine to allow him to live a little longer, without suffering. But the blood tests said that our little Tigri was finished. The last photo of poor Tigri alive prompts me to publish the latest photos of gentle Rouxy and our dear Frimousse…
When I do my little stroll every morning I often see a ginger cat near this house. To take a photograph I have to take out my phone… Two days ago I was determined to do so but… a young person in beach clothes was on the garden bed… so no way. With #metoo I would probably be in trouble! But this morning only the red cat on top of the white furniture. RouXy’s mother lived a kilometre from that place. Is this cat a distant cousin of RouXy’s?
When RouXy died at the beginning of February 2017, Frimousse was in great shape – although he was nearly seventeen years old.
He very quickly noticed RouXy’s absence. He didn’t look for him. He kept on the sofas and beds where they used to stay. He was waiting, but he sure knew that RouXy wouldn’t come. He was becoming weaker and wearker. Without his RouXy, was life worth living?
Frimousse told you – it was on March 15, 2016 – we often see a red cat on the side of the road, a few kilometres from our house.
About a year ago, having not seen him for several days, and learning from RouXy’s Master that a red cat had been eaten by dogs, I stopped at the house of the red cat. A charming young lady opened the door, with her two young children by her side. « He isn’t our cat! He was here when we bought the house. » I asked if he entered the house, if they could caress him. « Yes. He is becoming more and more friendly. » She told me that if he didn’t show up, she would let me know.
Fortunately, we see him quite often.
Two days ago Frimousse’s Mistress was driving back from work and she passed by the house of the red cat at the moment his Master was arriving in his car. The red cat jumped from the wall where he was waiting to receive his Master with dignity. And the Mistress had said that he was not their cat! In any case, they are his Masters now.
« From where she lived when she was a child, my Mistress has retained the habit of decorating everything for Christmas (*). And today she has installed everything, except the Christmas tree, of course, which will come to our place beginning of next week, probably. It was chilly but for nothing in the world she would have avoided this pleasure of installing lights on the small fir trees, in my garden, and in front of the window of the house.
RouXy? My friend spent a lot of time inside, even if that was not all day in front of the stove.
(*) In a few days she will bake her famous Christmas biscuits. And my friend RouXy will give her a… paw and a… tongue. He simply adores short pastry, before it is put in the oven. »
Of course Frimousse didn’t know it would be RouXy’s last Christmas, and his last Christmas too. No biscuits for the time being. And no decoration yet. We are not in a Christmas mood. You can guess why. The last Christmas before the civil war ?
You know, my RouXy, we always were afraid that you’d finish crushed by an automobile, a truck, a tractor, a motorcycle … So we tried first to convince you to spend nights in your house. – many cats die at night. We were successful. We also tried to convince you not to go far from houses. How would you have been able to escape a vixen whose young ones are starving? By climbing up on a tree with your three legs? And then, outside the village, there are hunters. They are not all as careful and respectful of regulations as your Master. And if some confuse donkeys and hinds, horses and deers, runners and mountain bikers and wild boars, they will confuse easily RouXy and a hare!
I write you that, my RouXy, but you cannot read this text and where you are nothing can happen to you any more …